Darkness is hidden
by lovable-hate
Summary: Sequel to 'stolen my heart'. The Doctor and Martha return to earth to discover a galactic jack the ripper brewing havoc in the unlikely seaside town. can they stop it before it kills again? and do they know more about the monsters than they realize?
1. Chapter 1

**Ok, so here we are. The first chapter to the sequel of 'stolen my heart'. I hope this story lives up to your expectations! Wish me luck!**

Latisha Mickey was a beautiful planet. But at a time like this, the Doctor thought, a time full of death and despair, longing and loss, recovery and remembrance, it was hard to appreciate beauty quite as much as you usually would. Well, they wouldn't. But he could.

Sometimes terrible times made people seem more beautiful. He turned, and saw Martha framed in the doorway of the TARDIS, tired, pale, and thin. Not a drop of makeup on her face. He hair arranged in a simple ponytail, she hadn't had time to come up with anything else. Yet she was the most striking thing he had ever seen. She glowed like a beacon in the midst of the terror and turmoil on the dark, dark times. And he was deeply, and passionately in love with her.

She caught him looking and offered him a smile.

"It's amazing," she said. "Thank you. Tish and Mickey would have loved it. And I do now." He beamed at her, trying to control his emotion. The woman had just suffered an immense trauma, he reminded himself. Take it slow. You have all the time in the world. He wanted to tell her how much she was to him. How much he cared. What she meant to him. Instead he just said:

"Where is everyone?" Martha beckoned over her shoulder.

"Inside. Mums still recuperating from the funeral. I think it's just hit her that… that she's never coming back."

"Its hard," he said slowly. "So hard."

"Yeah," sighed Martha, wiping away the last of her tears. "It is." He crossed over to her and took her hands in his. He gazed into her eyes and was momentarily rendered speechless. She said nothing. The moment was too perfect, just them, surrounded by the incredible serenity of the new environment.

Finally, the Doctor spoke.

"It's warm outside, you won't need this." He unzipped her jacket and helped her out of it, smoothing the black leather and hanging it on the hook above the TARDIS door. "There. Perfect." She smiled her thanks and together they stepped out onto a brave new world.

Martha's jaw dropped as the view of the planet finally was completely revealed.

"Oh my God…" she gasped. "This is…"

"Like nothing you've ever seen before?" he asked. She nodded, awed.

"Look," she said, her finger tracing the silhouettes of the deep purple mountains. "I never thought… I can't speak!"

"There's nothing to be said," the Doctor whispered. She took another, shaky step forward, examining the placid waterfalls winding their way down the mountains, crashing into a gentle stream and the delicate, lush green grass. The wide, open forests spreading into the distance, the full bloom of deep red flowers littering the floor.

"It's like the most beautiful bits of earth…" she breathed.

"All jammed into one place," the Doctor finished.

"Exactly. I don't believe this."

"There's also a gentle atmosphere about the place," explained the Doctor. "Makes you feel passive, content. Not strong, mind you, but strong enough to keep the planet peaceful."

"And you gave this to Tish? And… and Mickey."

"I think they deserve it," he said honestly. "If I could change one thing about my timeline, I would be a hell of a lot nicer to Mickey."

"Really?" mused Martha. "I would of thought that scenario was reserved for 'taking better care of Rose?'"

"Uh… no. Being nicer to Mickey. Rose is… I think she's happy with a copy of me. But to tell the truth, I'm more worried about sorting out the future than dwelling on the past."

"Why?"

"I… uh…"

"Martha!" Martha turned and saw Leo and Shonara stepping out the door.

"Leo!" she went over to him a gripped his hand. "Where's Mum."

"Inside with Dad. She's coming out in a second… Oh my God!" Leo looked around in wonder at Latisha Mickey. "Shonara, look!" Shonara, one hand clasped over the gentle bulge in her stomach, gasped.

"It's a different planet," she breathed. "Oh God, I am standing on an alien planet. And it's beautiful. Oh, Leo!" He embraced his fiancé, stroking her hair gently. He murmured sweet things in her hair and she smiled tearfully. Weepy hormones, the Doctor realised, somewhat proudly. The more and more time he spent around humans, the more he seemed to understand them.

"Mum!" Martha rushed over to her trembling mother and embraced her tightly. "Alright?" Francine nodded faintly. She wrung her fingers together and wiped her eyes.

"Oh Martha… I made it darling… we made it… I got all the way through it… the funeral…"

"Well done Mum," Martha managed. "You did really well. Really brave."

"Not as brave as you were. God, you're always so strong, how the hell do you manage it honey? I know how much Tish relied on you darling… what are we going to do without her… oh Martha…" Martha hugged her again, a tear leaking from beneath her eyelid.

"Look, Mum. Look how beautiful it is. And it's for Tish. And Mickey. Look what the Doctor did for us." Francine nodded, her lip quivering. She turned blindly towards Clive who had just appeared.

"Clive… look what he gave to Tish. Look at it!" Clive pulled his ex-wife into a quiet hug.

"She sure as hell ought to have it, Franny." Martha bit her lip and met the Doctor's eyes. He watched as she visibly deflated with the two hugging couples on either side of her. The Doctor grabbed the moment, and Martha's wrist, pulling her away.

"Come with me," he said.

"Where?" He didn't answer, just laced his fingers through hers and led her towards the mountains. Martha gazed up into the sky, half admiringly, half frightened, at the rocky climb towards the peak.

"We're not going to climb up," the Doctor said. "Not now, anyway. In here." For the first time Martha noticed a black shape looming in the cliff face.

"A cave," she realised. As they entered the cavern they were hit by a blast of cool wind that sent Martha's hair whipping in the Doctor eyes. "Oops. Sorry."

"S'alright," he replied. Martha stepped forward and saw the remainder of the torchwood crew sitting around a gentle fire. Jack stood up, and opened his arms. Martha ran over to him and hugged him tightly.

"How was it?" asked Jack. "The funeral." Martha nodded.

"Ok. Ok I guess, yeah. What's this?" Martha was looking over his shoulder.

"Oh, photos. Of… of Mickey. Come and see." The Doctor followed Martha as she squatted around the glowing embers of the dying flames.

"You and your family can choose a place to put Tish's stuff as well," he murmured in her ear. She nodded, picking up a framed picture of Mickey and Gwen, with Jack in the background. She gestured to the church in the distance.

"Was that…"

"That was at your wedding," Jack confirmed. "You can just see you two coming out the doors."

"Oh," she said, her shoulders sagging slightly. Gwen smiled sympathetically at her across the blaze. The Doctor observed the way Martha couldn't bear to look at the memory of her and Tom's wedding. That was when he first accepted how long it was going to take for her to get over Tom taking advantage of her feelings for him as he did.

"Let's look at another picture," he said. "What's in this album?" Picking a book at random, he opened it on the first page. Mickey beamed up at them, and in his arms was a laughing blonde girl. He looked nervously at Martha, trying to predict her reaction, when he realised she was doing the same. They shared a slightly bewildered, very relieved grin.

"You don't feel all…" Martha waved her hands around in search of an appropriate word. "…about Rose?"

"No. Apparently I don't. And neither do you."

"Apparently not."

"Maybe," said Jack slowly. "Maybe you don't see her as a threat anymore." And he shrugged.

0

0

Leo and Martha sat outside the TARDIS, arms draped around each other, deep in thought.

"So," said Leo. "Are you and the Doctor like… together?"

"Not exactly," Martha answered. "Kind of… but not officially."

"Uh… what?"

"It's complicated," Martha sighed.

"Everything's complicated with you isn't it?" Leo said.

"Sometimes it seems that way." Leo allowed himself to chuckle a little. Then his tone became more serious.

"And Martha… you saw Damien k-kill her."

"Yes." Martha looked away. "Leo I really don't want to talk about it."

"I'm sorry but… I can't believe…"

"We're going to all suffer from her death the same Leo. I was just… unlucky I had to watch her."

"It was more than unlucky Martha. Tom made you."

"Leo please let's talk about something else," she begged him. "Listen, Mum's in this clearing, she's talking to Shonara about all that baby stuff and names and I think you should be there."

"Martha I…"

"Please, Leo. I need to… have a rest. I'm still recovering from the brain injury and I'm tired. So please just go and speak to Mum."

"Oh, God, yeah," said Leo, standing up quickly. "Err… sorry. I didn't think about that. Sorry."

"Of course you didn't. Why would you?" asked Martha. "I just…"

"I'll see you later," promised Leo, hugging her quickly. "Bye." He walked away into the forest. Martha felt tears boil in her eyes, but she forced them down. She's cried enough over the last few weeks, she told herself. Pushing the TARDIS open with slightly more force than was probably needed, she burst into the console room, blinded by tears.

She felt like a fraud. She had lied about being tired. Ok, so the Doctor had insisted she _was_ still only in the stages of recovery and she _did_ need rest, but she mostly ignored his advice. It had been a cheap dodge to avoid talking about witnessing Tish's murder. And now she felt terrible. She flopped onto the chair and closed her eyes.

Martha heard somebody come up behind her, but didn't bother to open her eyes. She already knew it was the Doctor. Only he could come into a room with so much unnecessary noise and speed.

"Martha?" she heard him say. "Martha are you asleep?"

"Yeah," she replied, raising her arm in a casual greeting. He smirked and came closer to her.

"That means you want to be left alone, doesn't it?" he asked. Martha opened her eyes and spun around in her seat.

"Not necessarily," she said.

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"I don't know," she admitted. "I just can't seem to face everyone asking about Tish's death and all that."

"Understandably," the Doctor added. "You all right then?"

"Sure," said Martha. "I'm always all right."

"On the surface," said the Doctor. "But you don't have to hide Martha. You don't have to be strong. Not in front of me."

"I think I'm trying to convince myself I'm fine more than anyone else. Makes me feel a bit better. Does than sound stupid?"

"Of course not," said the Doctor. "You couldn't sound stupid if you tried." And he took her thin between his thumb and forefinger. She looked into his eyes and he smiled softly. "I love you," he said simply. She didn't know how to react, she just kept staring forward. Wondering when she was going to wake up.

"I think I love you too," she whispered. His other hand roamed to the side of her face.

"Think?" he asked. "We better do something about that." She realised her hands were toying with the crease of his lapel. She wondered how that had happened.

"I think we better," she breathed. And suddenly they were leaning forward and his hand was knotting in her hair and they were so close their noses were rubbing gently along each other and all they had to do was tilt slightly forward and then their lips would meet. Her tongue slipped out and licked the gentle curves of her mouth getting ready because any moment now the moment would be complete and the world would freeze around them…

The TARDIS jolted forward and Martha fell from the chair was a yelp. The doors slammed shut and they were in flight.

"Doctor what the hell did you do!" she screamed, picking herself from the metal mesh floor. And the moment was gone.


	2. Chapter 2

**As you will probably gather from the contents of this chapter I am a bit of a freak about the setting I chose. I have been waiting for ages to get an opportunity to write about it and here we are. I hope I do it justice! Oh, and sorry its been a bit longer than usual too. But it's here now so…**

Martha glared at the Doctor across the console.

"What. Did. You. Do!" she growled. He opened his mouth to protest, seemed to think better of it, and waved his arms around emphatically instead. Martha raised her eyebrows. "Right," she said. "I understand you completely."

"Martha…"

"What, was that supposed to be funny? Kind of, get her distracted and then set the TARDIS off, yeah, that'll give her a shock. Because it worked!" And even as the words came out of her mouth she felt mean. She knew the Doctor didn't intend to annoy her and whether he set the TARDIS off or not, she could hardly beat him up about it. That much. She sighed.

"Martha I'm sorr-" She cut him off, hanging her head.

"Don't even say it. I'm sorry. It's been a long day and I didn't mean to snap. It's just… well you and the TARDIS often become the victim of bad timing. Not your fault."

"No, I want to say I'm sorry. Sometimes the TARDIS… well she decides to move off without my permission. I think I forgot to put the handbrake on."

"Ah. So she decided to interrupt us." Martha chuckled. "Almost like she didn't like us being together like that."

"Don't be silly," said the Doctor. "She loves you. Especially after you visited her so often in 1913. I'm sure she likes us being together almost as much as I do. Buuuuut not quite. That would be impossible." Martha flushed.

"You going to take us back then?" she said. The Doctor gazed longingly at the closed doors. She put her hands on his hips and looked at his appraisingly. "Come on, Doctor. I need to get back to everyone."

"Time machine," he reminded her. She raised her eyebrows.

"Now."

"Aw, Martha. You don't even know what's out there. It could be something brilliant, something fantastic. You might regret not going for a look one day. You never know."

"Doctor!" She seemed tempted though, gazing at the door as well. "Oh, ok then. Five minutes. As in, literally five minutes. Not five minutes in a different time frame our whatever. Promise?"

"You have my word," he said solemnly. If it's somewhere good we can come back later right?"

"Time machine," she confirmed with a nod. "Course. Come on, chuck me my jacket." The Doctor did so and smiled in anticipation, pushing open the doors. Martha breathed in crisp, salty air of wherever they were and followed him. What she expected was some exotic planet with blue-faced natives and maybe a couple of alien invasions on the side. What she saw was a sleepy British town with a grey sea crashing against some equally grey rocks bordering a stony beach. The sky was, unsurprisingly, also grey.

"So we're on a beach," she said. "Or specifically above a beach. No big wow. So can we go?"

"No no no no no! This is one of the best beaches in the world!"

"We're in Britain," said Martha sceptically.

"Best beach in England then. South of. I suppose."

"It's a bit cold."

"Complaining Martha? That won't do! Come on, you promised me five minutes! Please!" His enthusiasm was infectious. She took his outstretched hand and they ran down the path towards the beach. Martha only skidded to a halt when the Doctor started towards the water.

"Oh no!" she cried. "No I am not swimming! It's winter!" The Doctor shrugged and dived into the water. Martha gasped in shock, then began to laugh as his head broke the surface, his untameable hair flattened.

"Wimp!" he cried.

"Cold?" she giggled.

"Cold? Course not!" he replied. Then he met her gaze and nodded sheepishly. "Freezing." She smiled as he squelched his way out from the sea and plonked himself on the stones, pulling her down with him. She winced away.

"Urg, you're freezing," she protested. "You'll get hypothermia."

"Nah. I can just adjust my body temperature slightly and I'll be fine."

"Right," said Martha. "How did that slip my mind?"

"You are a Doctor," he reminded her, wagging a mocking finger in her direction.

"Hmm… majority of the time I deal with humans though."

"There is that. Serious gap in the curriculum."

"So go on then," she said, changing the subject. "Where are we?"

"Portland," he answered. "It's an island. Well, they call it an island. Really it is connected to the mainland by one road. So it isn't really an island."

"Ok," said Martha slowly. "And we're on a beach in Portland."

"The beach in Portland," he corrected. "Chesil beach. Lovely, lovely place. Great for water sports. Look up there." He pointed upwards. "Look at the coastline. Beats Dover hands down. And the hill leading to the pier, I used to roll down that. Before they build those brick things in the middle. Meant to look like waves, some modern artist mucking around with the landscape."

"I can tell you're nine hundred," she remarked. "You sound like my Granddad."

"Curious fact!" said the Doctor, choosing to ignore her last comment. "Locals think it's wrong to say the word 'rabbit' while on the island."

"So it's kind of swearing."

"Kind of yeah…Oh! Look!" he said gesturing up to the sky again. "Rescue helicopter!"

"Oh yeah," she said, squinting. "Funny. Coming towards us. And I don't see anyone in trouble." The Doctor scanned the coastline.

"No," he admitted. "Me neither. Maybe it's going over our heads. Ooh! Another interesting fact, the first rescue helicopter was… RUN!" The Doctor grabbed Martha and hauled her to her feet.

"What are you doing?" she demanded.

"The helicopter!" he cried. "Look!" Martha examined the sky. Sure enough the helicopter was flying directly towards them… shaken by the heavy vibrations of a machine gun. And it was shooting at them.

"What have we done?" she asked. "We've only been here two minutes! What the hell have we done this time?" But he pondering was cut short as the Doctor pulled her to the ground and bullets peppered the rocks behind where she had been standing. They began to sprint up the slopes of the beach, tripping and slipping as the pebbles slid from beneath their feet.

"Come on!" cried the Doctor. "Faster!" They finally made their way to the battered steps leading onto the concrete walkway above the beach. Martha pelted up the stairs two at a time and glanced around wildly.

"Where do we go?" she shouted, her words tumbling into the whistling wind.

"Just run!" he cried. "Look out!" Again, he shoved her aside to avoid the bullets. Martha looked up. They were getting closer. She saw a flicker of motion in the big window and anticipated his next move. This time it was her to pull the Doctor out the way and he smiled gratefully.

"Up the path!" he said. "No, over the grass!" He grabbed her hand and they began to lurch over the grass, hopping over the stones decorating the picturesque hillside. He looked round for shelter. But there was none, just big empty coastline and beautiful scenery. He looked right, left, behind him, even to the sky. But nothing. Wait. Go back one. He looked directly forward and beamed.

"Look Martha!" he cried, jabbing his finger ahead of them. "A climbing frame! Look, it's even got monkey bars!"

"Right," she said. "And this is important because…"

"What!" The Doctor froze where he stood, inches from the crude chunk of graffitied play equipment. "Martha, there used to be a slide! What did they go and scrap the slide for! That was the best bit! Now there's all this ugly scaffolding instead! That's rubbish!"

"Doctor," gasped Martha. "Focus."'

"Right!" The Doctor stole a quick looked behind him and seemed to make a decision. "Right! Shelter!"

"Where? Here?"

"Yep! Come on! The scaffolding will serve well after all! Hurry up!" The 'copter was hovering overhead now, the bullets bouncing off the framework of the climbing apparatus. There was not a moment to lose. The Doctor dived beneath the scaffolding bringing Martha down with him. She grazed the skin off her hands and bruised herself a tad but on the whole, this was better than being shot. The only question was what next?

"Doctor when exactly are we?" she asked. "21st century ish?"

"After 2004," he said.

"How do you know?" The Doctor pointed to a piece of graffiti shining on the post of the climbing frame. "Zoe and Greg forever 2004. Hmm, I wonder…"

"Doctor," asked Martha with a faint tone of disgust in her voice. "What the hell are you doing?" The Doctor, his nose pressed up against the wood, looked over his shoulder.

"Trying to see how old the graffiti is. I can still spell a bit of the ink… when they wrote this their marker was running out… ah. Oh dear."

"What?" Martha said warily.

"One of those smelly pens that you use to write on whiteboards," he replied. "Urg. Right then, smell quite strong…" He extracted his tongue and licked the post. "Hmm that tells me… bloody hell!"

"What is it?" she asked again. She was beginning to feel ignored.

"I'm loosing my touch Martha!" he yelled. "According to this-" he pointed to his tongue. "That graffiti was written in 1909! What the hell is happening?"

"Maybe you're getting old," she teased him. He scowled at her, and then winced as the bullets began to bombard the top of the scaffolding. He grabbed her and pulled her closer to him.

"We don't want you near the edge," he said. "You might get got by any rogue bullets. We should be alright but…" Martha knew she should be worried about the helicopter firing guns at them as if they were in an action movie. She knew she should be thinking about a way out of this predicament. But all she could think about was his arms around her waist and his chin resting on her head. She let out a quivering breath.

Suddenly the air was filled with a screeching sound that ripped and throbbed. Martha clasped her hands to her ear and buried her face in the Doctor's long coat. He held onto her, shouting into the din.

"What!" she yelled at him.

"A SIREN!" he shouted. "IT'S A MATHIELLA SIREN!"

"YOU WHAT?"

"MATHIELLA!" he cried. "IT'S A… I'LL EXPLAIN LATER!"

"WHEN WILL IT STOP?"

"SOON I THINK… SEE THE HELICOPTER'S GOING AWAY, IT'S BEEN CALLED!" Sure enough, the alarm stopped and Martha emerged from the Doctor's coat, her limbs trembling.

"Alright?" The Doctor asked. She nodded shakily.

"What the hell is going on?" she asked. The Doctor crawled out from their shelter and pointed up at the sky.

"Look!" Hundreds of helicopters were hovering above what looked like a street of houses, with twice as many trucks parked underneath.

"What are they?" Martha breathed.

"Their conquerors," he replied. "The soul aim of the Mathiella is to conquer. They tend to stick to their own galaxy though."

"They're trying to take over earth?"

"I don't know… Earth seems a bit low for them… usually go for the more war abiding races."

"That's a new one. Earth is peaceful," she said.

"Oh you'd be surprised. In comparison to… oh I don't know Dleiflohcs ecila or Drofkcom or something you're like bunny rabbits. Darn it! No rabbits! Shit, said it again!"

"Doctor, what are we going to do? I mean, we're ignoring the five minute agreement now I take it?"

"Yes," he said. "But to your family it won't be any longer than that. Don't worry. Now, we're stuck on when we are, what they're doing and what we should do to stop it."

"No we're not," said Martha. "There!" She darted into the bushes and extracted a copy of _look. _Scrabbling with the magazine, she flicked through the torn, damp pages until she reached the front cover. "9th October, 2010. Tish's funeral was yesterday."

"Blimey, that's convenient," he groaned. "I leave Earth to itself for a day and somebody invades it. Typical!"

"So we go and try to persuade them to bugger off and you do your 'I'm a time lord you better watch out' thing and we carry on from there," she guessed.

"Yes! You know me very well."

"Plus, the whole warning thing is getting a little old," she pointed out.

"Really?"

"You need a new angle," she advised him. He shrugged and took her hand.

"Come on then Miss Jones. We're going to sort this one out." And they began to head up the path.


	3. Chapter 3

Martha swallowed as she and the Doctor peered round a large hedge at the assembled troops.

"What do we do?" she whispered.

"The basics," the Doctor replied. "We just go over and see what the problem is and sort it out. Nothing could be more simple."

"Unless they shoot us down in the street," she said.

"They won't. Probably." He took a deep breath and abruptly spun out from their hiding place and into the road. "Hello!" Sighing, Martha followed him. She saw three figures, a little taller than your average human, their faces concealed by heavy helmets. The rest of the soldiers seemed to be lurking in their vehicles, ready to pounce.

The three figures started at the Doctor's voice. One turned, and even without looking at his expression Martha could tell he was angry.

"Why are you breaking the curfew?" he snarled, with a voice that hissed like the wind through the fine branches of a tree. "Kill them!" The other two aliens the Doctor had identified as Mathiella tensed their weapons.

"Wait!" cried Martha. "We can help you!"

"Yes! We're good at helping people me and her are!" the Doctor added.

"Hold your fire!" The alien who Martha presumed to be some kind of leader walked slowly towards them, toying with the hem of its rich green robe. "What are you?"

"General Pontouf!" cried one of the soldiers, but the alien held up a scaly hand.

"Pontouf is able to handle this one _Private_ Linfioe," spat the leader, stressing his title. He then turned back to the Doctor and Martha. "What are you?" he repeated.

"Err… well I'm the Doctor and this is Martha and…"

"Pontouf does not care for your designations!" the Mathiella stated. "Are you some kind of police? Relief force?"

"Why would we be that?" the Doctor asked carefully. Martha looked at them both quizzically.

"Pontouf?" she asked.

"I think it's his name," the Doctor murmured. "They don't seem to be able to talk in the first person."

"If you are telling the truth… it is hard to know who to trust… Pontouf wonders what the best cause of action is…"

"Why have you been shooting at us," asked Martha. "We haven't done anything."

"You are one of the people of this island are you not?" Pontouf barked, but there was a crack in his voice. The Doctor wagged his finger in the General's helmeted face.

"Ah Pontouf. It's not an island is it?"

"It is general Pontouf to you stranger!" General Pontouf slapped his hand away.

"Ouch!" Nursing his hand, the Doctor turned back to Pontouf. "Why are you here General?"

"I am doing my duty! Alongside my soldiers, I am doing my duty!" Martha's gaze drifted across to the aliens hiding in the shadows of the vehicles. Something wasn't right. She narrowed her eyes and peered through the tinted windscreen of one lorry. Inside, a Mathiella seemed to be lying across the lap of two others. His hat was off, revealing a pale face with large sorrowful eyes and salmon pink skin. A trickle of shocking pink blood trickled from his almost invisible lips. As Martha watched the eyes slid shut.

"You're hurt," she breathed, looking back up at Pontouf. "Your soldiers are hurt."

"You're fresh out of battle," the Doctor realised. "But why have you turned up here? What, is this island a place to work of the anger or something?" Behind his sarcastic tones, Martha noticed something. Fury. The Doctor was furious. She shivered slightly.

Pontouf took of his helmet to reveal a similar face to the dying warrior Martha had just spotted in the truck." We were searching the galaxies, doing our duty and then…" he turned away from the Doctor and when he looked up, Martha was startled to see tears in his eyes. "And then our ship was hit by a great shower of meteorites. They didn't show up on the scanner, they seemed to have just begun to exist the moment we drove into them. And we crash landed here."

"You crashed from another era!" said the Doctor. "You slipped through a gap in the fabric of time! That explains why I dated the graffiti to 1909! Martha it all makes sense!"

"Not to me," she replied. "Why are they killing everyone."

"Because of what they were doing before they crashed," explained the Doctor.

"What were they doing?"

"I don't know," he admitted. "Care to share General?"

"We were tracking a murderer," he mumbled. "A shape shifter. He killed seventeen members of our royal family and seven of our ally's rulers as well. He also seems to be responsible for two human deaths… though the details are unclear. We have to stop him before it is too late."

"And we can help," said the Doctor. "We have a ship back there and it can follow anyone, anywhere. It can even identify the killer's species. Just stop attacking the town."

"Doctor," Martha said quietly. "Actually we don't have a ship. It's gone."

"What!" The doctor ran to the side of the road and peered down the slopes of grass they had just run up. There was nothing there, but the isolated playground and the sea crashing on the rocks in the beach below. "Oh I see. Recently unsettled time plus a state of the art time machine equals… crunch. It could be anywhere."

"You said you could help us… Doctor. Our scanners traced the killer onto this island," said Pontouf.

"It's not an island! How many times…"

"It is an island now!" yelled the Mathiella. The first thing we did when we got here was to commandeer as many helicopters as we could and using a recovered weapon from the ship we sliced the main road in two to isolate Portland forever. We set up troops to shoot down any authorities making their way into the island. Portland is no longer connected."

"Oh my God," breathed Martha. All those people…"

"Cars plummeted into the icy depths," husked one of the other soldiers, who Pontouf had called Linfioe. "The humans perished in their transport."

"You will pay for that one day," said the Doctor. "Try some compassion."

"The separation of Portland was wrong," said Pontouf. "The lives of the humans could be spared."

"As could those you shot down today," said Martha. "What's the point."

"Any one of them could have been the murderer," he replied miserably. "I had no choice."

"We must continue our work General," said Linfioe. "All life must be eradicated immediately. We can take no chances."

"That's nearly thirteen thousand people!" cried the Doctor. "You can't do that!"

"Try and stop us."

"Peace!" Pontouf cried. "Doctor I hate to admit it but he's right. We have no option but to continue. It's all we have."

"Pontouf, listen! It seems to me that you are a compassionate person and you don't agree with all this killing! You are trying to capture a murderer and slaughtering thousand of lives while doing so makes you like him. I'm begging you, stop. Martha and me; we do stuff like this all the time. We can get your murderer for you, if you promise to cease the killing now! What's more we can return both you and the killer back to your planet… once I find the TARDIS anyway…"

"Don't listen to the human Pontouf! He is weak… breakable…" Linfioe's finger twitched on the trigger and Martha jumped.

"I am willing to compromise," Pontouf said slowly. This caused uproar from Linfioe and his so far unnamed college.

"Mathiella do not compromise!" shouted the anonymous Mathiella. "We force!"

"Call yourself a General Pontouf…"

"I am a general and my decision is final! Doctor… Martha… I will give you until sunset to find the killer or else we will resume our killing."

"No! Four days! We need at least four days!"

"Until midnight tonight."

"Three days then! Three days and that is pushing it!"

"Two."

"Doctor," Martha was tugging at his sleeve. "We can't do this it's stupid we need to guarantee it… this isn't a game."

"Two days," the Doctor agreed. "Not counting the rest of today."

"Done." Pontouf firmly shook his hand, and the Doctor grinned.

"Now, tell us more of this killer."

Pontouf nodded sadly and began to tell them his story.

_Pontouf sprinted along the passageways of the Mathiella palace, panting. He had never been very fit, or very strong, but fear had given him wings. Gasping and wheezing, he reached an elaborately decorated door that about a dozen soldiers were gathered around._

"_What's… going on?" he managed. The soldiers mostly ignored him, as one did to the fifth son of the King who had no hope in hell of making it to the throne. To them he was just another young Mathiella adult, still childish enough to intimidate. However, one soldier did turn to him and spoke grimly._

"_There's been another murder… the shape-shifter has struck again…" Pontouf looked at the door they were gathered around, his stomach leaping in terror. He backed away slowly._

"_Oh God no… please no…"_

"_I'm sorry," said the soldier. "She's not… she's almost gone."_

"_She's still alive?" Pontouf felt a glimmer of hope._

"_Yes but… she's got minutes left." Pontouf barged through the strong young men and pushed open the door. Nobody looked up. His oldest brother was there, crouched by the bed with another two of Pontouf's brothers. The fourth had been killed by the ripper. Also there was his brother in law clutching his wife's hand. His wife was lying on the bed, blood crusting her lips, her eyes flickering. She was also Pontouf's youngest and closest sibling._

_He staggered into the room blindly and collapsed by the crib. Litheil- his sister- smiled weakly and touched his face._

"_Ponn," she rasped. "I'm scared." Pontouf felt tears prickle in his eyes and nodded._

"_I know," he said. "I'm sorry."_

"_Shut up Ponn," snapped his brother in law. "Lil, darling, who did this to you…" Litheil opened her mouth, trying to croak out her final words. _

"_A female Mathiella," she hissed. Then her eyes shut._

_0_

_0_

_0_

_Pontouf was sitting with his oldest brother Notretha- King of the Mathiella, in a daze of misery._

"_Pontouf pull yourself together," Notretha snapped. "She is not the first and the way this is looking… she may not be the last. We need to stop the killer."_

"_He could be anyone… he can change shapes… Aunt Quetlia said she was killed by an albatross… Rouet a human… it is hopeless." _

"_No it's not! Not if a family member was to go after him."_

"_All our brothers are fighting the war Notre. And you can't leave your planet, you're bound by law."_

"_No," Notretha said seriously. "But you can."_

"_Me!" Pontouf chuckled mirthlessly. "I can't control a pet, let alone an army."  
_

"_You will have to. Or else he will never be stopped. We have a lead."_

"_But I'm not military!" protested Pontouf. _

"_I can make you military! I am the King! I can do anything! I…"_

_But Pontouf wasn't listening. He knew he was stuck._

Martha spoke first.

"I'm really sorry," she said, her voice thick. "I never imagined it had affected your family so much." The Doctor crossed over to her and quietly took her hand. When he spoke, it was with honest, sad seriousness.

"Pontouf, I swear, we will do all we can to capture this criminal for you. But I need you to promise me not to hurt these people again."

"Two days Doctor," intercepted Linfioe. "You sealed the deal. No going back now."

The Doctor's lips pursed and he nodded deliberately. He turned back to Martha and squeezed her hand.

"Inspector Jones," he murmured. "We better catch this killer." Martha peered over his shoulder at the uncomfortable Pontouf and the sneering Linfioe.

"Or more people are going to die."


	4. Chapter 4

**So here it is. La belle chapter four. It's weird writing about somewhere I know so well. The playground thing is real and last time I went up to Portland my nephew ranted at me because the council got rid of the slide on it! Not sure why you needed to know that…**

Martha scanned the street, her legs aching, her shoulders throbbing as she looked for a bed and breakfast sign. She didn't want to be doing this. She wanted to be on the beautiful planet of Latisha-Mickey breathing in the crystal clear air and maybe climbing up those mountains the Doctor had talked about. She was so tired, and despite her attempts to conceal this, the Doctor had noticed pretty quickly. Therefore he had dispatched her on a mission to find somewhere to stay in the few days they were likely to be stranded.

"Even though we only have two days we do need sleep. Or you do anyway. Humans tend to," he'd said before dispatching her on her little assignment. So, after sifting around the suspicious, old-fashioned neighbourhood of Portland, Martha had finally discovered a suitable place owned by a friendly widow named Mrs Lankinson.

Martha knocked on the door and was greeted by an eccentric woman who beamed widely and hugged her.

"Yes, yes come in!" she gushed. "I welcome new people to the island, especially in a time of need, although they have stopped shooting now have they not? Lovely, lovely. Come on in. Put your jacket here chuckie, that's right. Can I get you anything? Tea? Coffee? I am famous for my smoothies around here, first class they are! Tea? Coming right up lamb. So who are you then? Martha? What a lovely name that is. Come through here the kitchens this way, careful love, the ceiling's a little low, yes that's right…" It was only after Mrs Lankinson had forced two cups of tea (much too weak- decidedly more than just a splash of milk) and a slice of her homemade apple cake down Martha's throat that she gave her a chance to speak.

"So for what purpose are you here honey?" she asked her. Martha swallowed her cake and replied quickly, wondering how women like Mrs Lankinson managed to keep up the conversation for so long without needing any help from the target.

"I need a room. For me and my…friend. We're not sure how long for though."

"No problem there chuck," she replied, her chins wobbling cheerfully. "A room each or sharing."

"Oh… I… I'm…"

"We'll decide when he get's back hey?" said Mrs Lankinson generously. "So, Martha, where's home."

"London," she said, peering round Mrs L's elaborate kitchen. She sensed the elderly woman seeked more information but she wasn't in the mood for idle conversation. All she was in the mood for was a nice, long bath followed by a sleep. But Mrs Lankinson was insistent.

"No, Martha. I mean who's at home."

"I've got a Mum and a Dad. Divorced. Brother. Brother's pregnant fiancé. Brother's kid. I had a sister."

"Had?"

"Um… yeah… there was an… uh…" Martha squirmed in her seat.

"So why are you up here then Martha. Change of scenery?"

"Something like that, yeah," she said. "Look, do you know what those things, out there, are?"

"Nobody does chuckie," said Mrs Lankinson, shaking her head sadly. "I saw them slice the main road joining us to the mainland as if it were nothing but butter. The cars all tumbling into the depths… looked like a children's play set from up here. A lot of the men tried to fight back but they were got rid of pretty quickly. That's why I stayed here. Don't go looking for trouble, that's me."

"They're looking for a killer," said Martha bluntly. "They're aliens and there's some kind of extra-terrestrial murderer. And it's a sort of shape shifter so they don't know what it looks like so they started to slaughter the inhabitants of the island in a bid to hopefully kill it. Now me and my friend have made them give us two days to find the murderer."

"Two days?"

"I know. Not long enough. But they were pretty forceful."

"So this friend of yours… he experienced in this kind of thing."

"His name's the Doctor," said Martha, avoiding the question.

"Funny sort of name," sniffed Mrs Lankinson.

"You get used to it. Believe me."

"And when will this Doctor of yours appear? And how will he find us?"

"Oh… I'll call him. At the moment he's talking to the Mathiella. That's the aliens."

"Of course," said Mrs Lankinson knowingly. She leaned in closer and began to murmur. "So Martha, you are the Doctor are you really just friends? Or…"

"Just friends," said Martha. "For now."

"Then what?" There was none of the plump, elderly woman now; Martha felt as if she was thirteen years old and being pressed for information about a boy she liked by her Mother. (What's his hair like? How tall is he? Is he nice? Funny? Sweet?)

"We'll just have to see," said Martha. "How much are you're rooms?"

"Fifty pounds per night my lovelies. Do you want to pay now or later?"

"Later," said Martha. Usually, money was no object on her travels with the Doctor, due to the TARDIS's ability to print out the stuff. But know the TARDIS was gone; it was like being stuck in 1969 again. "When we leave." The doorbell chimed suddenly and Martha jumped.

"Aha! That will be you're Doctor I fancy," said Mrs L. Then she gave Martha a funny look. "You didn't even need to call him." Martha smiled sheepishly as they both went to the door.

"Unbelievable!" shouted the Doctor pushing his way into the house, leaving the landlady posed with her arms open, groping thin air in an unanswered embrace. "Bloody unbelievable. Hello Martha."

"Are you all right?" she asked nervously. Mrs L popped her head round the Doctor's shoulder and smiled welcomingly.

"Welcome to my home, Doctor," she burbled. "I am Mrs Lankinson and I trust you will make yourself at home here. Could you like anything to drink…" Her words faded into nothing, as she watched the Doctor charge round her house, ignoring her completely. She didn't mean 'make yourself at home' quite that literally. The man was quite rude!

As she watched, he picked up Martha's half finished mug of tea and finished it in one glug.

"Martha likes it stronger than that by the way Mrs L," he said abruptly. "Why didn't she tell you?" He caught the warning glance from Martha and his mouth opened in recognition. "Oh, she was being…polite. Right. And I wasn't. Ok. Hello, my name's the Doctor. May I come in?"

"Um… yes," said Mrs Lankinson doubtfully.

"Thank you Mrs L," said the Doctor graciously. "Martha, we're in trouble."

"With manners like that I'm not surprised," muttered the older woman. Then she pursed her lips.

"Mrs Lankinson, would you mind showing us to our rooms?" said Martha, just to get things moving.

"Yes Martha. So, a room each or just one?"

"Just one will be fine," said the Doctor. "So, which way are we going?" Mrs L led the way up some thinly carpeted stairs and into a small room with faded wallpaper

"I'll leave you alone then," she said coldly and pulled the door closed.

"Are you all right?" Martha asked again.

"I'm alright, yeah. But those bloody Mathiella… do you know what they did?"

"Hit me."

"They said that the two day arrangement thing, they wouldn't hurt anyone? That was the deal, right?"

"Yeah…" said Martha slowly. She thought she knew where this was going.

"Well me and that Pontouf bloke, we were chatting, and he told me a load of stuff about what the scanners picked up and the last destination and all that and then I started to walk away and then a human came out of a house to see what was going on and that Linfioe bastard just shot him!"

"What?"

"I know! And then I went over to him and did the whole-"

"You shouldn't have done that, I'm a Time Lord, you better watch out," grinned Martha.

"Exactly! And then he takes his soldiers and they start knocking down doors and going in the houses and shooting everything up and Pontouf was there trying to take control but he was rubbish and now about half of the Mathiella have run off somewhere saying they'll kill him and us so now we're up against a serial killer and a bunch of bloodthirsty Mathiella."

"We are in trouble," said Martha. "I'd say our best bet was to figure out who the murderer was ASAP, then send them all off and maybe the bloodthirsty Mathiella will give us some slack."

"The killer was last traced towards Hallelujah bay."

"Hallelujah?" said Martha, a faint smile twisting on her mouth. "That's what it's called?"

"Yup. Never heard of it. They don't know what species it is, what it really looks like or even how it kills. Which means…"

"We're gonna have to be really careful," said Martha.

"Careful maybe. Really careful could be a little OTT."

"Really careful. We need to get back to the planet in the same shape as we left or else my Mum may have to be sectioned. If we don't get back… they're going to be trapped forever." Martha bit her lip. The Doctor lent over and pulled her into a one armed hug.

"We'll be alright. I promise. They won't even notice we're gone. Now then!" He jumped up and clapped his hand together. "Off to Hallelujah bay! Hall-e-lu-jah!" Martha smiled wanly.

They walked back down the gentle slopes of grass hand in hand. Nobody was about, all cowering in their houses. The mutinous Mathiella were nowhere to be seen.

"I'm still shocked and appalled the council got rid of the slide. Terrible. Although this scaffolding does have potential for a nice climbing frame…"

"Where is it then?" Martha interrupted.

"What? The slide? Rotting in a landfill somewhere probably. Tragic really. Quick fact about slides, the longest…"

"I mean this Hallelujah bay thing."

"Turn right instead of going onto the beach, walk along until you reach it. Easy to find apparently. Look, this way." They followed a narrow, hazardous path along the coastline, stepping over obstacles – namely rocks- and slipping every so often on rogue pebbles. Finally they broke out of the path into a rocky expanse with the harsh waves lapping against the thin strip of stony beach.

"And this is the place that the killer was last found," said Martha. "Looks pretty normal." The Doctor pulled a face.

"I'm sensing something wrong here," he said. "Something… I don't know. Hard to lay my finger on."

"Well we better start looking then," said Martha. "You go that way and I'll check out those caves over there." She started to the left but was surprised to find the Doctor laying a warning hand on her shoulder.

"No way. We stick together. I'm not losing you to a mental monster killer thing. Remember, if we see it, chances are we won't even realise. Stay close." Martha shivered and nodded. The Doctor had definitely become more protective of her since discovering of her abuse. She would have liked to say it annoyed her, but she actually rather liked it.

"Come with me then," she said, taking his hand and leading him towards a gaping cave in the side of the cliff. "What's the worse that could-" She cut of, a look of pure horror on her face.

"What is it?" demanded the Doctor. "What have you seen?" Martha pointed a quaking finger to a large boulder ahead of them.

"A body."


	5. Chapter 5

Martha shook her head and ran forward.

"Wait!" cried the Doctor, but she had already reached the body. The Doctor watched as she fumbled for a pulse, checked his airway, pumped his chest, blew air into his lungs. She fought death like a lion; desperately trying to revive the man slumped on the rocky floor. The Doctor felt a smile creep over his face despite himself. The setting sun shone on her making strands of her hair look almost golden. It illuminated her perfect complexion, her soft lips, her gentle curves. She really was beautiful.

Martha looked up at the Doctor.

"He's dead," she said, her voice sounding a little flatter than usual. "And only just, at that." The Doctor remembered what he was doing and jogged over to where she was crouched. He placed a hand on the man's still cheek. It was still warm.

The man had scarred, weather-beaten skin, his chin was a mess of matted beard and stubble, his hair dishevelled and tangled. His clothes looked like they hadn't been worn in months. She looked up at the Doctor.

"The Mathiella?" she asked.

"No. There are no shot wounds. He died of something else."

"The killer," said Martha. "So it was here."

"Moments before we were," said the Doctor. He looked around and sniffed deeply. "I don't smell any method of teleportation." Martha glanced behind her quickly.

"He could still be here," she whispered. The Doctor flicked his sonic screwdriver from his breast pocket and began to scan their surroundings, lighting the bay with eerie blue light.

"It's ok," he said. "It's just us." Martha nodded, her lips pursed together.

"What now?" The Doctor focussed his sonic screwdriver at the corpse splayed across the rock. It reminded him a little of old day's sacrifices. The thought didn't comfort him much.

"Male," he said. "Forty three, poor diet, but otherwise healthy. Spare the fact that he's dead."

"That didn't answer my question," said Martha.

"Oh… sorry… I guess we need to take him up and try to identify him so we can tell his family."

"If he has one. He looks homeless to me," said Martha.

"Still, we need to figure out who he is."

"Police station?" asked Martha.

"No police station on the island," said the Doctor.

"Hospital?" Martha caught the sceptical look directed at her. "Oh, ok. No hospital."

"Nearest one's in Dorchester." Martha sighed and relaxed onto one of the rocks.

"Well that's rubbish."

"I guess we'll have to put his body somewhere safe," said the Doctor. "But where, that's the only problem." 

"Only problem?"

"One thing at a time Doctor Jones," said the Doctor. He bounced to his feet clapped his hands together. "We'll take him up. I wonder if Mrs L knows him."

"It may shock you to learn this," said Martha, standing up as well. "But a majority of humans don't feel completely comfortable with dead bodies turning up in their houses."

"Really? Ok, Plan B."

"You have one?"

"Nope. I'm working on it," he promised. "Come on, help me with him." Between them the Doctor and Martha hauled the man up so his limp arms rested on their shoulders and they stood still for a second.

"So we walk back up?" Martha asked.

"Right," he replied. "This way." He began to walk. Martha grabbed his arm and tugged him back.

"No," she said patiently. "This way." The Doctor smiled sheepishly.

!

!

By the time they had managed to lug the man back up the rocky path and onto the tidy strip of grass above the beach the sun had almost sunk behind the deep purple clouds in the horizon. Martha dropped the body down in the most respectful way she could manage, and slumped beside it. The Doctor sighed and gazed around them, first at the setting sun and then up at the few houses visible.

"We need to sort out what we're doing," he said. "I don't want you out after dark. Not with a killer around."

"I am capable of looking after my self," said Martha.

"Not when we're concerning one group of rebel soldiers and a murderer," he replied shortly.

"Neither are you, then," she snapped. The Doctor remained still, and a sudden, prickly silence fell upon them. Finally Martha said: "Look at the sea." The Doctor tore his eyes away from her and peered at the beach. The orange sun reflected across the water, making it shine and sparkle appealingly. The waves had settled now, they were nothing but gentle ripples across an electric blue surface. "Its beautiful," she breathed. The Doctor didn't know what to do. He needed to get moving but… he could watch Martha when she was fascinated by something forever and ever. He ducked his head and mumbled:

"Time to go." He took her hand and pulled her to her feet. She smiled at him, her snappy retort forgotten.

"Where?" she asked.

"We'll put him in her garage or her shed or something," he said. "Once we've got this sorted out we'll make sure we find out who he is and gets a decent cremation or something." Martha chuckled softly.

"So we're hiding bodies in people's sheds now, are we?"

"Yeah," he admitted. "C'mon."

"Wait," said Martha. "Just one second." And she gently kissed the Doctor on his lips.

!

!

Mrs Lankinson busily moved around her kitchen, glancing out the large window looking out over her kitchen whenever the moment presented itself. The dishwasher had very kindly decided to break halfway through a wash and she had just spent the last hour on her hands and knees fishing out the broken plates and deformed cutlery from the very back of the blasted machine. In doing so she ripped along the seam of her brand new patchwork skirt, which she liked, very much- despite what her daughter said about her fashion sense.

She was now washing the remaining dishes herself, her hands throbbing as a result of the boiling water, grumbling softly to herself. She was thinking about the Doctor and Martha. Odd couple- and they sure were a couple whatever the girl said. She could have noticed it a mile off and she was no less than famed for her disaster relationships. Yes, Martha could pretend and avoid all she wanted, but nothing could get past her.

A sudden noise alerted her and the plate slipped from her hands and smashed on the floor.

"Shit!" Mrs L bent down and began to pick up the bigger pieces of china, wincing as her bad back twinged slightly. It was not fun reaching sixty. Suddenly, a door slammed shut in the house. Fear fluttered in the old women's chest as she straightened up. This wasn't those soldiers was it? The… aliens? She licked her lips nervously and called out.

"He… hello." She heard something smash on the other side if the house. Her lip curled, her tone hardened. "Hello!" She took a few wavering steps forward. "Who's there?"

She briskly walked out of the kitchen and into the sitting room. She gasped and rushed to the fireplace. Her favourite vase was littered across the floor in more than one part; the water spilled everywhere, the tulips sagging. Her hands flew to her hips and she regarded the empty room.

"Well then," she snapped. "That's very, very rude. Would you care to come out and explain yourself?" Easy. Like talking to her kids. Something shifted behind the long, hanging curtains and she spun round. Her chin trembled. "Hello?" she whispered. She began to walk towards the curtains, a lump rising in her throat.

Something burst from drapes, a blur of dark motion. Mrs Lankinson stumbled backward, her jaw dropping. The thing… she honestly did not know what else to call it, lurched forward and all Mrs Lankinson would do was scream.

!

!

The Doctor stared into Martha's eyes in amazement. She looked ahead at him, anxiously waiting for his reaction. He let a smile spread across her face and he hugged her tightly. He rested his chin on her head, stroking her hair gently.

"Martha," he said. She looked up.

"Yes," she whispered. "What is it?" He smiled widely. His lips parted, he bent closer… and a scream shattered the air.

He hesitated, his eyes flickering between the beautiful woman he was holding and the origin of the desperate screech. It was Martha who made the decision for him.

"Doctor!" She tightened her grip on his hand and began to pull him up the hill. He pulled himself together and followed her, his long legs allowing him to overtake her. They reached the road, their heads spinning left and right.

"Where was it?" Martha asked.

"I don't know I was too busy looking at you?" the Doctor cried. Martha resisted the urge to question him further.

"What do we do then?"

"Ask him." The Doctor was pointing over her head. She looked behind her and saw a teenage boy- about seventeen- peering out of a door. Martha hurried over to him and beckoned him forward. He hesitated… then obliged her. The Doctor watched as she talked to the boy, seeking information. He seemed to be frozen to the spot, watching the women and the boy conversing. A small part of him was laughing at the result of one kiss with Martha Jones. It wasn't like they hadn't done stuff like that before. He'd kissed her on the moon. He'd tried to kiss her in the TARDIS. But this time, she's kissed him. And it was amazing.

Martha turned to him, shock etched on her face. He ran over to them.

"What is it?"

"Jon says the scream came from Mrs Lankinson's house," she said. The Doctor nodded and ran across the road and began to sonic along the seam of the door. Martha gripped the boy's hand in thanks and followed him as the door sprung open. They rushed through the door.

"You stay downstairs," he said in a clipped, hurried voice. "I'll look up."

"No need," said Martha. "She's right there." Lying on the floor, seemingly unconscious, was the landlady. Together, they crouched by her side and Martha began to check her pulse and breathing. "I think she's all right. She's just been knocked out. I need some… ice… I'll get some ice…"

"I'll do it," said the Doctor. He left Martha bent over the middle-aged women's body, her brow creased in concentration.

"Mrs Lankinson? Mrs Lankinson, it's me, Martha. Can you hear me? Mrs Lankinson? I'm a doctor." Mrs Lankinson's eyes snapped open, her pupils blank, her irises scarlet red. Her plump hands jumped forward, and tightened around Martha's throat. Martha gasped, falling backwards onto her arse, scrabbling with the large fingers stretched around her windpipe.

"Arg!" she choked. How was she so strong? Martha was a fit, healthy young women, Mrs Lankinson was an old, large women with a bad back. She struggled, her fingers twisting round the older women's but there was nothing she could do. The world spun around her and suddenly, all she could see was redness. She mustered the last of her energy and managed to croak out a call for help.

"Doctor!"


	6. Chapter 6

**This chapter is a big tame in my opinion. But whatever. It had to be written. So the next one will be up soon too. Enjoy!**

Mrs Lankinson was brought back to earth with a painful jolt of reality. She gasped in a chug of air and clutched at her head in agony.

She heard someone moaning in the gloom and forced herself to open her eyes. She was confronted by pure blackness.

"Hello," she rasped, her breath scratching at the corners of her throat. "Hello?" A stabbing pain jolted through her heart, and that was when she realised that she was the one who was moaning. Did that mean she was alone?

She sat up, her painful back throbbing, at peered around. Where was she?

!

!

Martha's life was literally flashing before her eyes. She raced through her childhood, watching herself and her siblings grow steadily, feeling no need to stop. She remembers her numerous exams, and med school, and the royal hope. She remembered the royal hope. Everything ground to a halt as the Doctor stormed into her life. Oh god, the Doctor. She'd miss him so much if she died. They'd just established some sort of relationship… she hoped.

Her mind easily flickered over travelling with him, she thought about it so often. Shakespeare, New York, 1913… God what was she doing? Where was she? What was going on? She could barely feel her windpipe constricting; she hardly noticed the pressure being inflicted on her by the elderly women. She began to remember more recent things. Did that mean she was about to die? What happened once she ran out of memories? Was that death? She wasn't ready to die, not yet. She tried to resist the reminiscences nagging at the edges of her mind, but it was no good.

God, she was with Tom now. Martha watched herself flinch away from her husband, watched as he slapped her, hit her. Watched as her own blood trickled from underneath her eye, and for a second, she felt the pain again. Now he was strangling her, she watched as she sobbed, choked, retched. She had almost forgotten how angry he looked when he was hurting her. In her mind she began to scream…

Then Martha was back in the sitting room, lying on the floor. Her head was pounding, her vision blurry. One second it was a tall angry man throttling her, the next it was the short, plump, landlady. Her limbs flailed uselessly, she could actually feel her heart slowing down in her chest. Her lips pulled tight in a weird kind of smile, she cried out; nothing more than a garbled yell. Her last?

Then there was a bright burst of light, a distant shout, and she felt her head slam against the hard floor. The grip on her throat loosened and she sucked in a long breath, and closed her eyes.

!

!

When she opened her eyes, the world was confusing and mangled. She craned her neck and saw the figure of the old lady panting in the corner. The doctor rushed over to her, holding her up.

"Martha!"

"I'm ok," she said, her lip shaking slightly. She grasped the Doctor's arm, one hand on her fluttering heart. "Mrs… Lankinson… she was like… possessed or something…"

"It's all right," he said. "She's gone."

"Gone?" said Martha. "She can't be gone…we need to catch her…" The Doctor smiled encouragingly at her, pulling her into gentle hug.

"Don't worry," he said, rubbing her back soothingly. "Calm down."

"But she might hurt someone-"

"She's transformed," said the Doctor. "We don't have a chance of catching her now. It's too dark."

"She transformed?" The Doctor pressed a glass of chilled water into her hand, which she glugged down gratefully. The inside of her throat was red raw, like somebody was rubbing sandpaper along the lining of her trachea. The ice-cold liquid soothed it slightly, but nothing could erase the bruises Martha could feel developing on her neck. She shivered. The old bruises had only just begun to heal.

The Doctor watched her anxiously as she forced down the fluid.

"Are you sure…" he began.

"I will be," she said. "Just a little bruising." He didn't seem convinced. She smiled at him softly. "So is Mrs L the… killer?"

"No," he replied shortly. "The killer took the form of her. I scanned her when we got here just to make sure and the readings came up as strictly human."

"So when we were away she got attacked by the murderer," said Martha. "Is she… dead?"

"I don't know," said the Doctor. "I'm hoping they need to keep their hosts alive to keep the body functioning properly. But it all happened so fast, I didn't have time to analyse her. I'm not sure if that was actually Mrs Lankinson or a copy of her body. I just came in and saw her strangling you and I acted on instincts."

"What was that?"

"I hit her," he admitted. "I wouldn't usually, but given the circumstances… didn't do much good though. She dropped you, spat at me, and legged it. Well, when I say legged it, I actually mean flew it, because she transformed into a bird."

"A bird?" Martha groaned. "That should make our search for her so much easier."

"It was very clever of her," said the Doctor. "She flew out the kitchen window and I looked out to see what direction she went in, but there was a massive flock of seagulls in the garden. So yes… very clever. Annoyingly clever, in fact."

Martha nodded, and staggered to her feet, declining the Doctor's help.

"What now?" she asked.

"Nothing," he said. "I'm not having you going out there on your own with a killer on the loose! Look what he did to that man… who we have left on the hillside… I'm not letting you go the same way."

"But we've done worse stuff than this," she pointed out. "I walked the earth with thousands of Toclafane, and you have to admit I did pretty well with them. Even if I do say it myself."

"Stop it," he said. "Just stop it." She glared back at him defiantly.

"Can we even go out and get something to eat," she said.

"No."

"Doctor…"

"No! Listen, to me! I care about you Martha, more than anything in fact, so please just no!"

"But I…" Martha, frustrated, struggled to find words. How could she tell him? How could she say that this… protectiveness bothered her. She liked it when he showed he cared for her, sure she did, but she hated feeling so trapped. It reminded her of Tom. But the Doctor hadn't thought of this. Why should he? He wasn't even human. What did he know about her feelings? What did he care?

"No buts," he said. "I'm sure there's something in the cupboard. Or the fridge. Or wherever you tend to keep food now. What do you want?"

"I don't care," she said. "Anything."

"Martha?" Tears prickled in the back of her eyes and she turned away from him to hide it. She knew she was getting herself worked up, but the memories that had just come flooding back were scaring her. Seeing Tom hurting her, being strangled by somebody she thought she liked (again) and now the Doctor's sudden possessiveness. It was so hard to get over him, especially with the sudden change in her and the Doctor's relationship. She heard him talking to her.

"Martha? What's the matter? Martha talk to me." she wanted to. But the lump rising in her throat told her that if she did, she'd burst into tears. She let out a little gasp and rushed from the room. She heard the Doctor shout from behind her, heard his hurried footsteps behind he, and she began to run. She slammed and locked the door of their room and sat on the bed. She felt sick. Tears began to spill over and she thanked her lucky stars that she'd got out when she did. She'd rather die than let the Doctor see her cry over seemingly nothing. He was banging on the door, now, calling to her. She pressed her hands over her ears, and eventually he left. She lay down on the bed, and began to cry.

!

!

The Doctor tiptoed up the stairs, tray in his hands, heart in his mouth. He hesitated outside the door of their room, then knocked on it with his elbow. He had left Martha alone for just over an hour, and thought it was more than enough. He wondered what had happened to her. Her 'time of the month?' (as if he knew what that meant). He recalled the phrase 'it's a female thing'. He wondered what that _meant_ too.

"Martha?" he said softly. "Can I come in?" He heard a noise behind the door and it opened slightly, revealing the face of Martha Jones. He offered her a smile. "Hello." She opened the door fully to allow him to come in and disappeared further into the room. He followed her. She was sat on the bed, in her pyjamas, spun by Knottregth tailors on the seventh moon of Knottreg. He smiled as he remembered that certain trip.

"Hello," she replied him, brushing her hair back from her eyes. He sat on the bed by her and laid down the tray.

"I brought you dinner," he said. "Chips?"

"Thanks," she said, sagging slightly. The doctor picked up one and put it to her lips. She opened her mouth and half-heatedly bit of the end. He smiled, feeding her more chips (cramming a few in his own mouth too) in silence. She sighed.

"Why don't you tell me what the matter is then," he said gently. She shrank away into the pillows.

"I'm tired," she said. "It's getting late."

"Martha, tell me," he begged. "I know I'm rubbish. I know I can never figure out what you're thinking. I need to learn to interpret your actions into emotions if we want this to work out, but in the meantime, you have to tell me. Is it me?" She shook her head. He tried again. "Is it… Tish?" She shook her head again.

"I still can't handle this," she whispered. "Everything is… wherever I go there's always something reminding me of… of Tom and what he did. And I just started to remember all this stuff and then there's us like…"

"Do you want us to slow down for a bit?" he asked. "I can do that for you."

"No! I mean, yes… I don't know…"

"Do you want to talk about it?"

"I'm not sure… Doctor I'm not sure about anything…"

"Of course you are," he said. "Look, have another chip." She opened her mouth and he stuffed it inside. "So do you want to go to sleep now?" She sucked in a deep breath.

"Doctor," she said. "Can we go to… to the beach?" His grip tightened on her hand.

"No. It's too danger-"

"It's too dangerous!" she finished. "Because that's just it Doctor! Tom was always so… possessive, so… controlling and now I feel like you're not giving me any… freedom… I just need some… space you know? I just feel like I haven't had any time, any independence recently and now I need some and I feel like I'm just not getting any… I'm really sorry."

"Well, you shouldn't be," he replied. "I'm sorry. It never even occurred to me. You must think I'm pathetic."

"You know I don't." She lay down on the bed and slipped underneath the covers. "I'm tired," she said again.

"I bet you are." He kicked off his shoes and snuggled into next to her. "All right?" She nodded sleepily.

"What are we going to do tomorrow?" she asked.

"We'll figure something out," he said.

"Is Mrs Lankinson going to be all right?"

"I hope so. We'll go back to Hallelujah bay and look around for any evidence of particle fallout or something."

"And we can look for the TARDIS, right?"

"We'll find it," he said. "I can hear her, in my mind, but her voice is much weaker than usual." Martha turned her head across to check on him. She knew how much the Doctor relied on the TARDIS.

"Are you okay?" He nodded. He shifted slightly and wrapped his long arms around her, kissing her on the top of her head.

"If you are."

"I think I am," she said. He kissed her again.

"Go to sleep now," he said. She smiled and closed her eyes.


	7. Chapter 7

The Doctor blinked awake, a stabbing pain searing through his dreams and bringing him back to sharp reality. He groaned, tousling his hair with one hand and peering across at Martha. She lay peacefully by him, breathing steadily, her mouth slightly open. As he sat up, she shifted her position and laid her head on his chest. He gazed down at her in wonder, stroking her soft, smooth hair rhythmically. His lip curled when he noticed the crude, yellow bruises patterning her neck. They only just hid the recently healed wounds of her previous abuse.

He felt the stabbing pain again and winced, gripping the bed covers to prevent himself from crying out.

"Ouch," he hissed underneath his breath. "Ouch, ouch, ouch, ouch, ouch." He kneaded his temple with his clenched fist, then gasped.

"_Where were you?"_

A familiar, silky voice spoke clearly in his head. _"Why did you leave me for so long?"_

"I'm sorry," he breathed. "I couldn't hear you. Or feel you. It was like…"

"The unsettled time, as you very well know," the TARDIS finished. "Are you coming for me or not?" The Doctor's eyes flickered from the slumbering women in the bed beside him, to the window, displaying the incredible sunset one can only see when by the coast. And she was out there somewhere.

"Where?" he said aloud.

"You know where I am. You can sense me. You know I'm not far away."

"I can't leave Martha," he said.

"Yet you leave me." Her voice was low and mournful. And suddenly it snapped. Was the TARDIS… jealous? It seems preposterous. But still…

"You are aren't you," he said. "You're feeling neglected, aren't you?" The reply was a cold, steely, silence. Now the Doctor was stuck. On one hand, he was pretty sure that after his protectiveness yesterday, Martha would not appreciate him going gallivanting off on his own. Without telling her. On the other hand, he was desperate to make sure the TARDIS was okay. He didn't feel safe without her near, and he needed to ensure she was in a good place before they resumed their 'investigations'.

"I'm sorry," he whispered. He slid out from underneath Martha and tucked her up underneath the covers. He brushed his lips against the corner of her mouth and buttoned up his jacket. "I'll be back soon." Then he slipped on his shoes and left Mrs L's b and b. He just hoped Martha would forgive him.

!

!

The Doctor was not the only one to be awoken by pain. Martha Jones jolted awake as a persistent ache in her back pound violently. She sat up in bed, rubbing the small of her back in circular motions, trying to orientate herself.

"Doctor?" she mumbled. Flicking her hair from her eyes, she looked around. That was when she realised he was gone. Her brows furrowing in annoyance, she called out. "Doctor!" No reply. She sighed. She wished he were more… reliable. Ok, so she trusted him with her life and would jump off a cliff if he told her that he would catch her at the bottom, but still. Saying that he loved her was all well and good- fine, it was bloody marvellous- but if he was just going to disappear without thinking to alert her…

Martha stumbled to her feet and ran a hand through her hair. She walked out of the room in search of a bathroom, her back throbbing. She stood over the sink, gazing groggily at her bleary reflection, and fumbled for a toothbrush in the small drawer. Halfway through brushing her teeth, a wave of dizziness passed over her. She dropped the brush and clutched the side of the sink. She heaved… and vomit splattered the inside of the basin.

"What?" And all at once, she felt all right again. Martha looked around warily. What the hell was in that toothpaste? She found a flannel and washed the specks of sick off her face, out of her hair. It was just like the A&E, really. As she washed out the sink, she felt almost embarrassed. What had come over her? She was glad the Doctor wasn't there to see it. She could imagine his reaction all too well.

After slipping on her clothes, Martha hurried down the steep stairs, her stomach churning.

"Doctor?" She searched the whole house, the garden, even the shed. He was nowhere to be seen. Feeling decidedly nauseous, Martha collapsed into a kitchen chair. She buried her face in her hands, and tried to straighten her mind. She had to sit here for a few seconds, organise her thoughts, and settle her stomach. If she was calm and quiet then it would all go away…

The next thing Martha knew she was slumped in the chair, the freezer door ajar, shovelling huge spoonfuls of ice cream into her mouth. The coldness seems to numb her taste buds, she could hardly even recognise the flavours. She wanted more. As she scooped another lump of ice cream from the tub she was struck by a sudden thought. The spoon froze over he bowl; the ice cream slid off the spoon and plopped onto the table.

"Oh God," she whispered. She dropped the spoon, one hand fluttered to her stomach. "Oh my God." She stood up suddenly, the world spun around her. Pushing back her chair, Martha began to run. Out the door, down the road. In search of a chemists.

!

!

The Doctor stood on the edge of the cliff; gazing into the dark, grey depths of the sea. As he watched, the humongous waves threw themselves at the jagged silhouettes of the rocks. The sheer power and force was incredible. Even to a nine hundred year old time lord.

He raked a hand through the deep brown spikes of his hair and gazed across the chunk of grass, mounted with a towering lighthouse that was Portland Bill. He could feel the TARDIS in his mind, egging him on. She knew how close he was.

"I'm coming," he muttered. He reluctantly abandoned the breathtaking view and crossed across the grass, hands in his pockets, his long brown coat flapping behind him in the breeze. He reached the lighthouse, and reached out a hand to try and touch the rough curves of stone. His hand bounced back.

"That's interesting," he said. "Why would anyone want to protect a lighthouse?" He pressed against the force field again. He would try and get through that later. He had the TARDIS to sort out first, and if he didn't get back to Martha before she awoke, she wouldn't be kissing him again any time soon.

He walked round a corner, and saw the reassuring shape of the tall, blue box.

"Hello!" he beamed, breaking into a run. He opened the door and skipped in. "I'm back!" He began to fondle the TARDIS controls gently. "Let's move you somewhere nicer, hey? Nearer the house. More convenient." Suddenly sparks flew from the console. "Hey! What you doing!"

"_I refuse to move,_" said the TARDIS.

"What? Why?"

"_You'll understand one day. I'm sorry."_

"Right," said the Doctor. "So you brought me here for nothing, then. Fabulous. What even made you move?"

"_I cannot say."_

"Right," he said again. "So I'm here for a reason, but I'm not allowed to know what the reason is. Right. I need to go now."

"_Doctor, please. It's necessary… I cannot say…" _

The Doctor was about to retort, when his phone rang. He answered it immediately and began to talk down the phone.

"Martha," he said. "I'm sorry. I had to leave, I know it was horrible. I know you're mad at me. I heard the TARDIS again, I had to find her."

"I'm not mad at you," Martha. Her voice sounded rough and tired. "I understand."

"I'm coming back right now," he said. "Don't worry."

"Doctor," she said. "I have something to tell you."

"What?" he asked, his insides crawling nervously.

"I'm… I'm pregnant," she said. "I'm going to have a baby."

"What?" The Doctor's mind was racing. "Are you sure?"

"I think so, yes," she replied.

"Hold on," he said. "I'm coming. Stay where you are." And he snapped the phone shut.

!

!

Martha was sat on a rock in hallelujah bay, her knees clenched to her chest. She didn't know what to think. She had known the second she had looked at the positive pregnancy test in her hand she was keeping the baby. But she knew no more than that. She wasn't ready for this. After what had happened his Tom, and what had just occurred between her and the Doctor, she needed to slow down. But her life had just doubled in speed.

She watched as the vicious waves lapped against the rocks and felt something tug at her heart. What must the Doctor be thinking? He didn't especially like children. She couldn't put him through raising one. Her heart sunk. She'd have to leave the Doctor. It was the only think to do.

"But I love him," she whispered, the wind tugging at her words. "And I think he loves me. But he won't love my baby." And what about the child's father? Tom? He was imprisoned; Martha and the Doctor were still sorting out the divorce. It was out of the question to let the baby see his or her father. He was too dangerous; Martha still bore scars of their marriage, physical and emotional. God, what if the baby took after Tom? What if they turned out as killers? No, Martha would never let that happen. But should she tell Tom, or not?

"Martha! Martha!" It was the Doctor. She gathered her stray emotions, ordered her jumbled thoughts and managed to call out to him.

"I'm here." She heard his quick footsteps pounding on the loose stones, and soon he came round the corner, hopping over the larger rocks. He hesitated, panic clear on his face.

"Martha," he breathed. She stood up.

"Hi," she said nervously. He crossed over to her, and hugged her gently.

"Are you all right?" he murmured. She nodded; they both sat down on the boulder. The doctor rested his arms on her shoulders and she lent close to him.

"I'm sorry," she said.

"Why?"

"Bad timing. I know you have a thing about babies."

"Not if they're yours," he said. "Do you know how far along you are." She nodded.

"A month and a half," she said. "But I didn't even notice. Call myself a doctor."

"And the Dad. It is Tom, isn't it?"

"Definitely. Like he'd even give me a chance to leave the house alone, let alone… it's Tom."

"Can I?" he asked. She nodded. He placed a hand on her stomach. "He's in there somewhere," he said. "Or she."

"He can hear you," she said. "But, does that mean we have to… call it a day now? I know you won't want a pregnant women travelling with you. I won't be too fast at running in a few months."

"You want to go home?" he asked.

"Not really," Martha admitted. "But you're not saying that you wouldn't mind travelling with a hormonal, massive, fat pregnant woman with mood swings and morning sickness, are you?"

"Yes," he said quietly. "I'd understand completely if you wanted to stay with your family, and I'd understand if you wanted to stay on and give your child a proper, safe childhood on earth, but I won't pretend I'd like it."

"I wouldn't like it either."

"So what do you want to do?" he asked. Martha licked her lips.

"I think-" she began. But due to the muddle of events that followed their conversation, due to the terror and the fear, the killing and the violence about to take place, what Martha thought, the Doctor never found out.


	8. Chapter 8

**First of all, I'm soooo sorry it took so long! Number one enemy in writing a fanfiction= writer's block. It manipulates your mind, builds barrier to all the good ideas… you know the drill. Anyhoos, velly solly will not happen again. I hope. But you never know when the dreaded block will strike again!**

**!**

**!**

The doctor watched as Martha, torn between indecision, opened her mouth and began to speak.

"I think," she began. But the echo of bullets cut her off. Martha jumped and the Doctor leapt to his feet.

"They came from over there," he yelled. For a second, he considered instructing her to stay here. Hide. Stay safe. But something told him not to. She would hardly appreciate it. And to be honest he'd prefer her to be near where he could see her. Especially now she was pregnant.

He didn't know how he felt about Martha's pregnancy. There was a part of him that was wildly excited for her. At the first signs of a relationship developing he'd been worried about her missing out on human things i.e having children But now, she was giving birth in less that eight months. That was the part that scared him. Firstly for Martha. Having to deal with a reminder of Tom all her life. And then for him. A baby. An innocent baby who needed constant care. This prompted yet another part of him that vowed to be just like a father to the kid, because it would be Martha's baby, and Martha would rely on him to be trustworthy. He also wanted to prove himself as more than an unreliable time lord who would scarper at any sign of responsibility. The final part of him was the most irrational. There was a part of him that was jealous of Tom Milligan for being the father of Martha's child.

"Over there," she agreed, and they began to run towards the firing. Caution abandoned, Martha raced around the corner to be faced with a dozen of the mutinous Mathiella soldiers. She hesitated, unsure of their next move. She looked to her left to check what the Doctor was up to.

"Hello!" he said cheerily.

"Doctor," growled one of the soldiers. "You are in league with our general. You and your female friend must die."

"We're not in league with anyone," he said. "We're completely, one hundred percent independent."

"Makes no difference." A sneer twisted across the soldiers face as he lifted to gun to his shoulder.

"Wait!" cried Martha. She wasn't sure what she was about to say next. Don't shoot? Somehow she didn't think that would suffice. She fumbled for words. "Uh…"

"You need to stop killing the islanders," said the Doctor. "Although, as we discussed yesterday it's not an island! However, that is unimportant now, because whether we're on an island or not I do not appreciate you taking out your anger issues on innocent people. Understand?"

"I understand perfectly. But as you say, unimportant. You are nothing but a small obstacle."

"But what's the point?" asked Martha. "Why are you doing this?" But then something happened. The ground began to vibrate and shake violently. Heavy rocks stacked in the old quarry atop the sheer cliffs began to tip and roll down the hills.

"Earthquake?" Martha said. But the doctor was shaking his head.

"Oh no," he said. "Worse."

"Take cover!" the Mathiella was shouting. "Retreat!"

"Doctor!" yelled Martha, gripping his arm. "What do we do?" The Doctor looked around wildly.

"Um…" An elderly woman fell down to the ground to Martha's feet. Martha immediately bent down and took her wrinkled hands in hers.

"I've got you," she said. The woman was breathing heavily, her thin hair cascading down her face, her pale eyes flickering madly.

"The end of the world," she mumbled. Martha shook her head.

"It's ok," she promised.

"Martha, hurry," said the Doctor.

"Help us," she cried back. The Doctor crossed over to them and heaved the elderly women to her feet.

"Come on," he said. "This way." She shook her head earnestly.

"I am too old… I'll slow you down."

"Don't be ridiculous," said Martha. "We'll look after you." They began to manhandle the old woman across the rocky ground. Martha eyed the heavy rocks tumbling down the slopes of the cliff. They could crush them like she could a garlic clove. "Where are we going?" she asked.

"Just hurry!" said the Doctor. "Trust me." The old woman kept stumbling and almost falling, she was wheezing heavily, in a manner Martha diagnosed as asthma.

"Do you have an inhaler?" she asked. Her teeth clenched, the woman shook her head. Martha looked at the Doctor nervously. "Just keep breathing steadily," she said. "You'll be fine."

"Quick," the Doctor commanded. "Down these steps."

"Where do they lead?" Martha asked.

"I'll explain… just hurry!" Martha ushered the woman in front of her, supporting her as she slowly made her way down the staircase. It seemed to lead to… well nothing. Nothing but a patch of dead grass and a few nettles. The Doctor pushed Martha to the floor so he back was resting against the cliff side.

"Doctor…"she began.

"We're safe here," he said. "Tucked away. The rocks can't harm us." Martha winced at the sound of shattering boulders. The old woman was breathing heavily, a stream of saliva dribbling out one corner of her mouth. Martha glanced at the Doctor anxiously.

"Alright?" she asked the woman. "What's you're name?"

"Elsa," she managed. "Elsa… Briggs. What's your… yours?"

"Martha Jones," she said. "I'm a doctor. You're going to be alright."

"My asthma…" she managed. "Running is not good for me anymore."

"Better than being crushed by giant rocks," said the Doctor. Ignoring Elsa, he looked at Martha closely.

"Are you sure you're okay," he said, eying her still flat stomach nervously. Martha crossed her arms across her chest defensively.

"I'm one month pregnant. Not about to give birth right away. I'm fine."

"Congratulations," gasped Elsa. "You are a beautiful couple…"

"We're not…" said Martha automatically, then looked at the Doctor. "Are we."

"I'm not the father," he said.

"A friend?" asked Elsa.

"Blimey! I knew humans were nosey but really!" Martha was about to scold him for his crudeness, when the cliff behind them shattered as if it was made from glass. The scream was whipped from her mouth as she tumbled backwards, bashing and bruising herself on the jagged chunks of rock.

"Martha!" she heard the distant shout. She opened her mouth to call back but it was immediately filled with gravel as more of the cliff slid down. With a garbled cry of alarm, Martha threw herself forward, hurtling across the rocks, half crawling, half running. She choked, spitting the rock out of her mouth, her eyes watering. Her heart raced, the cliff was collapsing behind her, she was going to die. And her little baby would die with her. And her family would never even know what happened. Wouldn't even know Martha was pregnant.

Under her hand she felt something soft. She forced herself to look downwards and saw Elsa Briggs sprawled across the rocks, face down, blood drying down her temple. Martha glanced behind her at the churning cliff face.

"Elsa," she croaked. "Elsa, its me, Martha. Can you squeeze my fingers?" There was no response. "Elsa, can you hear me?"

Martha groped for a pulse on her wrist, her neck. There was nothing. And it was too dangerous to do CPR, too much pressure on the frail woman's body and the unstable surface would surely snap her back in two. But failure to react, and the woman could die. If she wasn't already dead. Martha grabbed the woman's shoulders and, in a swift, sharp movement, turned her over. Her eyes were slightly open, gazing into the empty sky. She was gone.

"I'm sorry," whispered Martha, wondering what she was apologising for. She closed the woman's eyes with trembling fingers, and shakily got to her feet.

"Doctor," she called, some kind of strength returning to her voice. Silence. Clutching her bruised ribs, she began to walk skittishly across what only could be described as rubble, slipping on the seaweed, tripping down the gaps. "Doctor!" Ok, now she was getting worried. What if he was hurt? Unconscious? What if he hadn't been fast enough…

A wave of nausea flooded over her again, and she had to hold her breath to stop herself from throwing up there and then. Her breathing was fast, her eyes flickered left and right, for a sign, any sign, that he was ok.

Then she fell to floor, as another vibration shook the rocky isle of Portland. Scorching white light shone everywhere. Martha began to crawl, she didn't know where she was going, towards or away from the sea, back where she had just come or further away, it didn't matter. As long as she was away from the light.

Then, something scattered the rocks as if it were Lego. She couldn't look up, her neck hurt too much, and because if she looked up her eyeballs would fry out of her skull. She lay very still, hoping that whatever was up there would just go. No such luck. She felt herself tossed across the rocky expanse like a doll, felt the air whipping past her face, and felt her shoulder click out of place. She gasped, tears welling up in her eyes, but she forced them down. What use did it do? What use did anything do?

"Doctor," she cried. "Doctor please!" But begging did nothing. She had to sort this one out for herself.

She got to her feet, the ground literally rippling below her feet. She hid her eyes with her hand, she couldn't look at the light, it was too much. She felt something huge moving around her, and with a wail of terror she pushed herself onwards, her knees buckling beneath her. The crashing behind her showed it was followed her. Something swiped at her and she fell to the ground. She lay there for a second. God, what was this doing to the baby? She was already a terrible mother, and the baby wasn't even alive.

She was this close to giving up, closing her eyes, letting the… thing kill her… when something happened. Nothing. The light faded into nothing, the source of the crashes unknown. Martha, tears streaming in her eyes, raised her head. She saw nothing but rocks, all around her. No mystery monster. That was when she threw up.

Martha was not a partier by nature- in fact she classed herself as very antisocial- so lying face down in a pool of her own vomit was entirely new to her. She wasn't sure she liked it. She got to her feet, her shoulder throbbing like an alarm. She touched it tentatively. Dislocated. She gritted her teeth… placed an unforgiving hand on her arm… and pushed hard.

"Shit!" Gasping, sweating, Martha examined her fixed shoulder. "Doctor!" Her screams echoed around the empty cove. She began to run, looking for him. She jumped over rocks, because he had to be somewhere, he had to be. Alive and well. Because he was the Doctor. And the Doctor was always alive and well. Wasn't he?

Something caught her eye and she dropped to her knees. Her gut twisted and for a second she thought she was going to faint. It was his sonic screwdriver. She picked it up, cradling it in her hands.

"Doctor," she whispered. "Please."

"Martha." She spun round, hope pounding in her heart. And there he was, lying on the floor, his limbs crooked, his face bloody. Sobbing passionately, Martha stumbled towards him. A twisted smile showed slightly on his disfigured face. He looked awful. "Hello," he rasped.

"No," she whispered, shaking her head, fumbling for his hand. "You're going to be ok, you have to be ok." She felt a faint pressure on her fingers. He was squeezing her hand.

"Are you all right?" he asked. Martha couldn't believe what she was hearing.

"Yes! Of course… oh my God look at you…" He looked awful. His face was sliced, grit embedded in his bony features. His limbs looked broken, his collarbone snapped, ugly bruising swelling along the side of his face. She placed her hand on his heartbeats. They were slow.

"Minor setback," he grated. "I've had worse."

"Don't… what should I do, Doctor."

"I need to get to the TARDIS," he replied. "If we get there soon, there's a better chance of me making it."

"You're not going to die," Martha said forcefully. He looked back at her, his gorgeous, youthful eyes dull. She shook her head more, tears dripping onto chest. "You can't! I love you!" He lifted his hand and it cupped around her head, pulling her closer. She buried her head in his suit.

"I love you too," he managed. His eyelids were fluttering.

"No!" Martha took his by the arms. "We're going to get you up. We're getting you to the TARDIS."

"Martha… I have to tell you something… before I die…"

"Shut up!" she cried. "You can tell me later. We have forever together. This isn't going change that, not this, not nothing." He paused.

"I love you so much," he said. And his eyes closed.


	9. Chapter 9

**I'm not too keen on this chapter, truth be told. But read it anyway. Please. And review. I love you.**

**!**

He couldn't be dead.

That was the first thought that shot through Martha's head.

"But you can't," she choked. "Not after everything. Not after the hospital on the moon, and the family and the year and… Tom and now…" Her hand fluttered to her stomach. "I love you. You can't just leave me…" Then she felt selfish. Scared of what she would discover, Martha gently laid a finger on his wrist. Her gut twisted as she felt the gentle throbbing of his pulse beat against her fingers.

Her heart raced, and her lips widened in something a bit like a small, scared smile.

"You'll be alright," she promised him. "I'm going to save you, like you saved me. I swear." She touched the dried blood on his face tenderly. He gasped softly. Gripping his hand, Martha began to murmur to him softly.

"Yes, that's right, wake up, I'm here…" His deep, intense eyes blinked open- or at least half open. Martha tried to smile, her eyelashes spiked with tears. "Hello," she managed. He reached out and touched her face, his eyes screwed shut, his teeth clenched in agony.

"Martha…" he growled. "I need to get to the TARDIS…help me…please…" She supported him as he heaved himself upward, leaning on her heavily. The second Martha loosened her grip, he screamed and fell into her. She staggered back, but composed herself, holding him up, his face buried in her shoulder. He was so weak.

"Martha it hurts…" the Doctor grunted. That was the heart wrenching moment she realised he was crying.

"I know," she said. "I'm sorry." The Doctor sucked in a deep breath, a low moan issuing from his lips. She gripped his wrist and rubbed his back soothingly. "You'll be ok."

"Martha please… help me…" he sobbed, his voice rasping. A lump swelled in her throat.

"I will," she said. "Tell me."

"TARDIS," he whispered. "Please... you have to help me… regenerate…"

"Oh God…" Martha's eyes blurred for a second.

"Martha! Please!"

"I'm sorry," she said. "You need… right." They began to walk.

!

!

Hours passed. The Doctor was slow, weak, leaning on Martha; his eyes fluttering open and closed every few seconds.

"Hold on," she said every time. "You'll be alright." But she didn't know if he would be.

She didn't want him to change. He was so perfect. Tall and thin, his hair spiked up, his long coat, his reassuring voice. She knew that underneath he'd still be him, but she saw how much Professor Yana had changed all those years into the future. Maybe he wouldn't like her. Maybe she'd annoy him. She felt guilty for letting herself be so selfish.

In all, it took three whole hours to reach the TARDIS, still parked in the ruins of Portland bill. He was almost unconscious, practically lying on Martha as she led him through the doors of his time ship. He groaned and collapsed across the console, blood weeping from his deep wounds. In the back of her mind somewhere, Martha sensed the TARDIS's stupefied silence.

"What now?" she asked, rushing to his aid. He sprawled across a chair, his head in his hands.

"I don't want to change," he rasped, his eyes red with tears. "Because if I change, I'll be a new man and you won't love me anymore and I'll have failed you, Martha. I don't want to die…"

"I believe in you," she said. She didn't know why, what good it would do. The words seemed to be needed to be said. He looked up at her, his eyes rolling back into his head.

"Do you? Do you really?" Martha answered him by pressing her lips to his ruined face.

"Yes," she whispered into his hair. "I believe you're going to be alright, we're going to find the killer, I believe I love you. None of those three rely on you looking like you do now."

"Martha I'm scared…" She firmly folded her fingers round his.

"So am I." A spasm tore through the Doctor's body and his screams bounced off the walls of the TARDIS. He twisted and fell onto the metal mesh floor. Martha fell to the ground and loosened his tie. "Breathe," she husked.

"No, Martha! I won't change, I'll never change… not ever…I won't… you won't handle it…"

"You'll die," she protested, holding him down as his body shuddered. "You can't die not just for…me…"

"I'll do anything for you…"

"Shut up!" she cried. "I don't want you to die!"

"It might be better…"

"Doctor!" Martha was terrified now, what the hell was he thinking? "You're injuries are messing with your head…what are you doing…" He lay still on the floor, his skin pale, his eyes closed. He couldn't be giving up?

Martha raced across the console. She could taste blood rising in her throat, panic pulsing through her veins. Her mind was racing- the Doctor was supposed to be strong, unbeatable. He'd saved her life so many times, he'd protected her from Tom, and she thought he was invincible. But now he needed help, and she didn't know how to supply it.

"Come on," she muttered, rummaging through the cupboard for a medical kit. There seemed to be hundreds, full of strange instruments she had never seen before. Her hands shaking, her fingers curled around a circular box. Maybe, just maybe…

She rushed back to the spot where he was lying. His wounds were still weeping blood; she thought he was going into shock. His eyes were open again, she knew he was conscious, but he didn't say a word.

"I'm going to make sure you're ok," she told him, snapping open the med kit. She picked up what looked like a ball of jelly, slimy and firm. His eyelids flickered in realization. She nodded. "That's right," she said. "It's a medical nano gene pod. I got you." Anxiety fluttering in her chest, she pressed the alien cure into his chest, watching as it appeared to dissolve towards his hearts.

Martha took his hand again and pressed it to her lips. "Please," she whispered, a hot tear trickling from her eye and onto his long fingers. The Doctor shuddered violently, jerking into a sit, his eyes wide open. Martha jumped, still gripping hold of him. He became silent; sweat beading his face, his intense brown eyes glazed.

"Martha…" he rasped, a fell back to the floor. Heart in her mouth, Martha checked his heartbeat. It was quickening from its previous, slow state back to what she considered normal for time lords. Hope sparkling in her mind, she began to heave him upwards. His head lolled on her shoulder and she began to half carry, half pull him to his room.

Slamming the door behind her, she lay him down on the bed. She chewed her lip, pressing an ice pack against the Doctor's swollen face. Even with all the wounds and bruises, he was beautiful to her. She started on cleaning out his wounds, starting on his face and moving down to his chest and back. It hurt her to see him in so much pain.

She was halfway through plucking chunks of rock from his splintered elbow when he awoke. He moaned loudly, his eyes snapping open and darting around the room.

"It's ok," said Martha. "I'm here." He relaxed as she moved to the chair beside his bed, smiling gently. His lips moved slightly, but his jaw was shaking so much it was hard for him to talk. Martha leant closer, her hair brushing against his face.

"Wh…wha…wha what di-id you do-ooo?"

"Medical nano gene pod," she replied, stroking his fringe back from his eyes. "It started your hearts again, your wounds are starting to close up again."

"Wh-hy isiit t-taking so lo-ong?"

"I don't know," she said softly. "But you're going to ok now. It might take a while."

"Thank you," he breathed. "I l-l-lov-v-ve you."

"Me too," she said, kissing him. He managed a smile, then sighed, and slipped away. Martha prised off his long coat and took off his plimsolls. She tucked his rigid body beneath the covers and left the room.

Her shoulder was throbbing now, and she took a paracetamol in an attempt to quench the pain. She was still shaken from the earthquake- of that's what it was. She wondered what had caused it. The killer? The mathiella? But how?

Martha decided a cup of tea was exactly what she needed right now. She filled up the kettle and flicked it on, watching as the steam rose steadily into the air. Pouring herself a nice mug (splash of milk, no sugar) it struck her the Doctor might like one too. She made one exactly how he liked it (no milk, no sugar) and tiptoed into his room. He was fast asleep, and as she watched his wounds were actually healing. She shook her head, imagining how many all-nighters this technology would save in the A&E. It was just incredible.

Martha went into her own bedroom and sat on the bed, sipping her tea. She wanted to call Jack, like she did when she had a nightmare, or when her family were on her case, but that would alert him that they were gone. She sighed. There was still a killer on the loose, who needed to be caught, and they weren't even close. People were going to die.

"Fine," she said to the air. "You know what, I'm sorting this one out myself." She stood up and walked back into the console room. "Oh!" Sitting on the floor, small and delicate compared to the exotic surroundings, was a tiny black kitten. He meowed at her, rubbing his eye with his white smudged paw.

"Hey baby," she cooed. "Are you hungry?" The kitten approached her, rubbing against her leg eagerly. Martha realised she was carrying a carton of milk in her hand. "I see." She filled up a small bowl with the milk and smiled as the kitten lapped it up eagerly. When she was kid she'd always wanted a pet- a cat or a dog- but Mum had put her foot down one time Leo traded five of her favourite movies for a gerbil.

The kitten was now nudging the closed TARDIS doors with its nose. Martha narrowed her eyes. "How did you manage to close the door behind you?" she asked. Shrugging, she swung the door open and stepped outside. The kitten bounded outside, batting its paws. Martha walked over to the cliff edge and gazed across the boiling sea. She looked behind her; the kitten was sitting at her feet.

"You are not getting any more," she said sternly. The cat snarled, and rammed its claws hard into her leg. She let out a little gasp. As she watched, the cat morphed into a person. A person she knew all too well.

"Mrs Lankinson?" she whimpered. The old woman grabbed her by the arm. Martha tried to twist free. "Doctor!" It was no use. The old woman injected something into Martha's neck and the world resolved into black.

**I do love my little cliffies! I know, I'm evil…**


	10. Chapter 10

_Burning. The world was burning. The Doctor snarled, his brow slick with sweat, moaning and tossing in his sleep. His body was knotted in the thin sheets, his hair falling in front of his eyes._

"_Martha!" he screamed, thrashing and turning in his sleep. "Martha!" Where was she, why didn't she come running? He began to sob, his hands raking through his hair. "Martha!" His eyes snapped open and he shuddered. The room was baking hot; his healing wounds were itching horribly. He groaned._

"_Martha," he rasped, his head sagging down into the soft pillow. He jerked as he heard soft footsteps sounding down the corridors. And she was there, wearing a clean pair of jeans and a simple cotton top, smiling gently._

"_Hey," she whispered, coming in and sitting on the end of his bed. She took his hand, fondling his fingers gently. "How are you?" He looked up at her blearily, his chest heaving._

"_It hurts," he said heavily. She sighed._

"_I love you," she exhaled. He tried to sit up in his bed, breathing raggedly. _

"_I love you too."_

"NO!" Martha jerked awake. She could hear her panting breathing echoing around her. "No! Thick, thick, thick, thick, thick!" What the hell was she thinking? She was all out and ready to sort things out for herself then BAM! This killer had outwitted her again.

She looked around her and saw nothing but black. Getting to her feet, Martha pressed her hand against the wall she had just been leaning on. It was rough and curved. She followed the curve around and soon came to a hunk of splintering wood. A door. Locked, of course. She carried on. The room seemed to be going round in a circle. Just as Martha thought she was back to where she started, she stumbled on something. Something soft.

"Ow!"

"Oof!"

"Who is it?" said Martha in a quavering voice. "I'm Martha."

"Oh God," whispered a female voice. "Martha."

"Mrs Lankinson?" Martha started, stepping back. She fished her phone from her pocket and the light illuminated the tear stained face of her landlady.

"There was this thing," she whimpered. "This shadow…"

"What are you?" Martha asked warily.

"What do you what am I?" the woman wailed. "I'm me?"

"I don't trust you," said Martha. "How do I know you're not possessed or something?"

"How do I know you're not possessed," sniffed the woman. "I was ambushed by this shadow and I woke up here and I had these dreams… and there are others…"

"Others," said Martha, edging away slightly.

"Mmm. There's this boy, and animals, lots of animals. A cat. Lots of birds."

"Where?"

"Here and there," she said. "In other rooms. Sometimes we have to go up to the top and it straps us down and takes our blood and it makes us sleep and I wake up here alone."

"It?"

"The shadow."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Martha shouted. She composed herself. "You have to tell me."

"I thought you didn't trust me," Mrs Lankinson said quietly.

"I don't," Martha calmly replied. "Why don't you try and make me trust you, hey? Please. I need to get back to the Doctor, he's hurt."

"What?"

"You heard," said Martha forcefully. Inside she felt like crying. But she clenched her fists and ignored the weak part of her mind. "Why did you bring me here?"

"I didn't bring you here! I've been locked here for hours!"

"You tried to kill me," said Martha slowly. "You tried to kill me in your house and then you injected me with something and I woke up in here."

"I swear I never… I heard a noise, in my house. Behind the curtains. It jumped out at me… pain… in my head."

"You said something about dreams," said Martha. "What does that mean?"

"Hazy… I dreamt about… you…your face, choking, then your… friend the Doctor… then Portland bill, I dreamt about Portland bill."

"Portland bill? What's that?"

"Martha please…"

"You have to help me," said Martha. "Please. I have to get back to him. He won't know where I am."

"Portland bill is on the coast, five minute drive from my house. It has a lighthouse… a tacky little gift shop."

"A lighthouse? The Doctor said the TARDIS was parked by a lighthouse. Mrs L, Portland bill is the only lighthouse on the island, right?"

"Mmm. What of it?"

"Don't you see?" Martha rubbed her hand against the rough wall again. "We're in the lighthouse. This room is a complete circle. This door leads to the stairs I guess. So the TARDIS is out there…don't you see?"

"I suppose," said Mrs Lankinson. "But that doesn't really help us get out. We're stuck here."

"No," said Martha firmly. "We'll sort it out. Mrs L, how would you describe the shadow you said attacked you."

"I don't know…I…"

"It's really important!"

"I don't know!" the old woman screamed. " It was only a shadow, I couldn't…. I just don't know." Martha sighed and sat down, tapping her phone on her knee anxiously. Sniffing, Mrs Lankinson gestured to the mobile. "Why don't you call him on that?"

"No signal," said Martha.

"No signal?"

"None. Zero bars."

"So what do you suggest we do now?"

"All we can do is wait."

!

!

She was sitting differently to the way she usually sat. She was poised rigidly, her back straight, her chin stuck out defiantly. Not relaxed or at ease at all. Her hair was arranged differently to usual as well. Her fringe was slightly fuller than usual, sweeping in front of her eye. He wasn't sure he liked it.

"How long have I been out of it?" he asked.

"It's gone lunchtime," she said. "I made you something."

"You made me something?" Since when could Martha Jones- despite her best efforts- cook?

"Yeah. Is that okay?"

"Uh, yeah. Just unexpected. Thanks."

"Do you want me to bring it to you?"

"That'd be nice," he assured her. She smiled and walked out the room. No, she almost marched. What was up with her?

Maybe she was ill. Maybe she was feeling the effects of the pregnancy. Maybe she had a stiff back. Maybe… what was the use? He knew what was going on. He just didn't want to think it. Didn't want to say it. But he had to.

"You've been possessed Martha," he husked. "They got you. The killer… oh shit." His hearts jumped in his chest. He leapt up, the sheets covering him crumpling onto the ground. His whole body throbbed. He hissed out a curse.

"Martha," he whispered. "Where are you?" She couldn't be dead. That was the first thought that fluttered through the Doctor's mind. Not after everything. The hospital on the moon, the family, the year, Tom and now… the baby. "I love you. You can't just leave me."

"What's that?" The fake Martha walked in holding a tray of pasta. "Hungry?"

"No," he said shortly. "We have a killer to catch."

"Right," she agreed. "Where are we going?" The Doctor walked into the console of the TARDIS, ignoring her completely. He grabbed his coat and walked out into the midday sunshine.

"You do realise you don't have anything on your feet," she said.

"Yup. We're going… that-a-way."

"This way?" He answered with a jerk of his head as he strode towards the lighthouse. She struggled to catch up with him."

"What are you doing?"

"Now the thing is Miss Martha Jones, the thing is, this is a lighthouse. And around this lighthouse is-" He banged his hand into thin air, and it bounced back. "A force field. And the question is: why? What do you think?"

"I don't…"

"Do you know how to get through?"

"No."

"You use one of these!" He fumbled in his pocket and extracted… a tube of toothpaste. "Uh-uh," he frowned. "Where is it? Where's my sonic screwdriver? I love my sonic screwdriver!"

"Right," she said slowly. "Don't you think we should go and look for the thing." She jerked her head over her shoulder.

"Nope," he said. "Because there is a force field around here and I want to know why. You know that, don't you?" Despite his earnest bluffing, the Doctor had no idea what to do. If this thing had commandeered Martha's body, he needed to look after it- she wouldn't appreciate coming home to a messy house and the same applied to bodies from his experience. However, if this was simply a copy of Martha, and the real Martha was somewhere else, body and all, he frankly didn't care what he did to this thing because it had violated the rights of his favourite person in the world and he was not happy with that.

That was why the fake Martha found herself pinned up against the wall, struggling, as the Doctor leafed inside her one pocket- on her jacket- at extracted his sonic screwdriver. He pulled a hurt face.

"Thief!"

"There it is," she said brightly. He raised his eyebrows. The killer knew she'd been found out. A snarl emitted from Martha's throat and with strength unnatural to a five foot two woman, she threw the Doctor to the floor. He looked up at her, spitting blood from his mouth, his healing wounds throbbing angrily.

"That wasn't very nice," he said. Martha snarled again, and this time she was really angry. The Doctor backed away on his bum, scrambling to his feet cautiously. As he watched the body of Martha Jones seemed to burn before his eyes, her face growing pink, her fists clenching. Then, a ball of fire erupted in her middle and she disintegrated.

Even though the Doctor knew it wasn't really Martha, he still felt faintly sick.

Then, from the pile of ashes at his feet grew something else. His heart leapt in his throat.

"A churzaarg?" He sped round the side of the lighthouse, his elbow banging again the force field every so often. The alien creator snarled and followed him round the smooth curves of the lighthouse. The Doctor yelled as the spiked tail whipped past inches away from his head….

Martha sat up suddenly.

"You hear that?" she whispered. "Screaming…it's the Doctor!"

"That's good isn't it?" asked Mrs Lankinson.

"Well he's alive," said Martha. "But he's screaming." She ran over to the door and rattled handle. "DOCTOR!"

"Martha?" The Doctor heard the shouts. "You're inside the lighthouse!"

Martha spun her head round, looking at the old woman excitedly.

"He can hear me," she gasped. "He's going to save us!" Mrs Lankinson turned to her.

"No, Martha. What about the screaming? He's the one who needs saving, not us." Her grin fading, Martha hurled herself against the door.

"DOCTOR!"


	11. Chapter 11

**Hello again! Here is the eleventh chapter- sorry it's shorter than my usual work. Remember, reviews means instant friendship!**

Desperation flashing on her face, Martha jiggled the lock of the door angrily.

"Help me then!" she cried, listening to the Doctor's shouts. "Come on!" The old woman didn't move.

"It's locked Martha," she said. "I've tried that."

"Doctor!" Martha yelled. "What's happening?"

"Complications!" he shouted. "Sorry!"

"What do you-" The feral snarl cut her off. "What is it?"

"Scary," he said. "I'm trying to… trying to reason with it…"

"It doesn't sound like it wants to reason with you!"

"Yeah, helpful!" the Doctor half laughed. Martha bit her lip.

"What am I supposed to do?" she asked, her heart in her mouth. She listened to the awful slashing sounds outside and the Doctor yells of alarm- she didn't want to but she just couldn't help it.

The world around her shuddered and she stumbled as what she presumed to be the illusive creature fell against the exterior of the lighthouse. She swallowed. She was scared now.

"Doctor," she called in a wavering voice. "Doctor?" Silence. Panic bubbling up inside her, Martha pressed her face against the door. "Doctor," she whispered. She looked back at the elderly woman perched on the floor. "Oh my God." Mrs Lankinson couldn't bring herself to say anything.

Suddenly the door flew open and Martha was pushed off her feet as an invisible force propelled her backward. Something cold. She shivered. Mrs Lankinson, her pale eyes wide, stared at Martha.

"The shadows," she said blandly. "The shadows have returned." Martha knew was Mrs Lankinson meant by shadows now. She knew there was something there, she could sense it's cold presence, hear the rasp of its shallow breathing, yet all she could see was a slight shift at the corner of her eye.

"What do you want?" she whimpered.

"Come. Come with me." Martha remained still, frozen to the ground were she was sprawled, but Mrs L was already stumbling to her feet.

"Stop! What you doing? You're not going with it?" There was something about it, something that made Martha want to get as far away from it as possible.

"I have to," replied the older woman. "I have to… we're going up to the stop… we're going to meet with the others…"

"The others? The other people?"

"SILENCE!" Martha feet a cold hand squeezing inside her chest and she winced. "You will come." Martha got to her feet and firmly grasped Mrs Lankinson's chubby hand.

"Alright?" she whispered. "Hold on to me." She followed the 'shadow' out of the now ajar door and took a sharp turn to the right. She squinted in the blackness of the dim light and clenched her fists as Mrs Lankinson fell ahead of her. The shadow forced itself between them, and for the first time, Martha noticed others. Men, women, children and animals, walking forward guided by dozens of the shadows. Martha shivered as a few brushed past her.

Then, something grabbed hold of her arms. She gasped in shock, as a hand was clamped over her mouth. Someone's mouth brushed against her ear.

"I'm sorry," he whispered. "It's just me." It was the Doctor. A sigh escaping her lips, she fumbled for his hand and held it tightly.

"Oh God," she retched. "It's you. You're all right. Thank God." It was all she could do not to turn around and hug him.

"You can kiss me later," he quoted, as if reading her thoughts. He smiled softly, embracing her softly from behind, his hand wandering to her stomach.

"What happened?" she asked. "How did you get away?"

"Honestly… I don't know. One minute this wocking great alien monster is trying to bloody well kill me the next it's disintegrated in front of me and turned into a little bunny…you know. Then it slipped through the force field and I followed it sharpish and I waited under the stairs and I saw you coming past."

"And you're ok now," she hissed. "Completely healed?"

"Almost," he assured her. "Worked on Jenny, worked on me."

"How did you know where I was?"

"The killer came into the TARDIS in your form," he sighed. "I figured it out pretty quickly and I guessed that the force field around the lighthouse was hiding something like that."

"I'm sorry," she said. "You were so sick, and I was desperate to get back to my family and make sure everyone was safe that I thought I could track down the killer myself. Then there was this cat…I should have thought but…"

"Its ok," he said. "It's alright now. We're going to sort this out. We'll get you back to Latisha-Mickey and then you and me can discuss what to do next. How does that sound?"

"That sounds perfect," said Martha, caressing the palm of his hand. Then she was struck by a thought. "Doctor? How did you know that I wasn't ….me?"

"I just knew," he said simply. Her heart leapt.

"I love you Doctor," she said.

"I love you Martha," he said. Then he moaned softly as one of the shadows passed through him.

"Up the stairs," it whispered. The Doctor wrapped an arm round her waist and she leaned against him as they walked up the stairs.

"What do we do?" she asked. "How can we stop them? Are the shadows the killer? The killer's… followers."

"The latter," he said. "The killer was Mrs Lankinson, then that kitten in the TARDIS, then you, then that alien outside, then the bunny… oh what the hell… the bunny rabbit."

"So how does it work?" she asked slowly. "Why was I taken in here?"

"Why do you think?" he asked.

"Well they needed my body… what they made some kind of copy… so they took me here… so everyone here has been used to make as a copy… so all these people…"

"Have been kidnapped at some point by the serial killer," agreed the Doctor. "Exactly."

"But why? What's the point?"

"Well if people know what he looks like, well he'd be got pretty quickly, by the authorities and stuff. And besides, by imitating other people's bodies, then he can get closer to his targets."

"So is he a nutter? Or something more?"

"I'm not sure," he said. They reached the end of the stairs and fell into a large room surrounded by wide windows showing the wild coastline of Portland bill. The massive bulb of the light dominated most of the room, and the rest seemed to be conquered by the invisible but not quite invisible shadows. Martha looked around nervously.

"What now," she asked. Footsteps. Heavy, deliberate footsteps that struck irrational fear in Martha's heart. The doctor seemed to sense her discomfort and moved forward protectively.

"OK," he said. "We're okay," he said. Martha watched as a figure walked up the stairs and stepped into the light. Martha choked in shock and her knees buckled from underneath her. The Doctor leapt forward and caught her. She was trembling like a leaf in his arms.

"Oh my God," she gasped. "What the… oh Doctor…" He rubbed her back soothingly, pulling her discreetly into the shadows.

"There, there," he mumbled, disbelief numbing his every sense, his every reaction other than to protect this beautiful, distressed women cowering in his grip.

"I thought he was dead," she wailed. "Why… I thought I saw…"

"All hail me minions," boomed the haunting voice belonging to the figure- the killer? "Tis I, it is I. And you will tell me where the Doctor and Martha Jones are or I will kill everyone of you." The Doctor looked across at Martha.

"It's ok," he muttered. "I won't let him get you."

"But he'll kill them…" The 'killer' was striding along the people laughing as they quaked under his chilling stare. The Doctor grabbed her and pulled her out of his vision. He crushed his lips against hers. Martha's heart rate quickened. Was this the end? She clutched hold of him.

"Doctor," she gasped.

"I'm so sorry," he said. "I'm really sorry."

"We're going to die…" she said. "You're saying goodbye." He looked at her with dull brown eyes.

"I won't let you die," he said. She kissed her again, and then pressed his forehead against her. A jolt of power jerked through their minds and Martha sighed.

"Oh," she whispered, and slumped to the floor. The Doctor lay her down, hid her underneath a tarpaulin. He touched her arm silently and straightened up.

"I'm here," he said. He walked through the crowd of people who scattered to let him past. He stared defiantly into the face of Damien Lee.

"Doctor."

"Hello," he said. "What do you want?" a smile twisted on the evil man's face.

"We walk, we talk," he said and the two men left.


	12. Chapter 12

Damien led him out of the lighthouse. The sun was beaming in the middle of the sky like a golden coin. How had time gone by so fast? They had less than a day to find and capture this killer. This killer, that was probably standing right in front of him, within his grip, but could change into anything at any point and flutter from his grasp.

The Doctor surveyed the man before him with pure hatred.

"Where's Martha," Damien asked with a flick of his pointed tongue.

"Not here," lied the Doctor. "After she got caught I rescued her and she decided to go home to her family."

"Still missing Tish, are we?" The Doctor clenched his teeth.

"What are you," he said simply.

"I'm a modern Jack the ripper," he smirked. "A galactic Jack the ripper. Take your pick."

"What are you? Are you the processed body of the Damien Lee who killed Tish that night at the wedding party or am I talking to the same Damien who committed the crime?"

"The latter," Damien smirked. "I killed Latisha Jones and Mickey Smith along with seventeen members of the Mathiella royal family and 7 of the Malum's rulers. I just captured a Malum soldier and took his form. Didn't you realise I wasn't human?"

"But you're a Malum," said the Doctor. He remembered back to that day, the day when all seemed lost and he thought they were going to die:

___"Martha needs to know!" The Doctor had said. "Tom is not human. Not fully human. He is a Malum. Exactly the same as a human, on the outside mainly. But the effect on humans that become emotionally close can only be described as… lust. The need for him to be near. In severe cases, like you Martha, if you are not physically touching him you feel immense pain. I would hazard a guess that Damien is younger than Tom. Is that correct?"_

"You and Tom, you're both Malum."

"I would hazard a guess that Damien is younger than Tom," quoted Damien. "Why did you think that?"

"Because even though Tish had known you longer than Tom, she had not enslaved herself out of the love and lust for you as Martha did to Tom. It didn't hurt her to be away from you, she wasn't mentally blind to what you did… I just thought your powers weren't fully developed yet."

"And I let you believe it," snarled the alien. "You think your so fucking clever, don't you?"

"Why don't you enlighten me?" said the Doctor. Damien thrust his face close to the Doctor's.

"Let's just say my father was Malum, but my mother was not."

"Your only half Malum," said the Doctor. "And what species was your mother?"

"Guess, Doctor. Can take another's shape so long as they have been captured. Have allies in the form of thousands of 'shadows' as I heard the old fat human say. Access to Mathiella royal family."

"I don't know," admitted the Doctor.

"My mother was a slave to the Mathiella. She was humiliated, tortured. Raped by a member of the Malum royal family, who was a trusted friend to the Mathiella. That's how I was conceived. Then, she was killed in a raging battle between the recently fallen out Malum and the Mathiella- I had to watch her die. So I swore revenge on the Mathiella and the Malum. Then I met the Malum Freedroll- or Thomas Milligan. He had been an outcast of the Malum for twenty years and together, we plotted our retaliation. We worked together, me with the shape shifting skills inherited from my mother, him with his close ties to the Malum, to kill them all. Once the deed was done, we turned our back on the world and flew away. We came to earth and met Harold Saxon who quickly recognised our species. We worked together. We came this close…" His head hung. "But victory was snatched away from us. So we decided to take it out on you and the charming, valiant Joneses. One by one."

"You won't touch them," the Doctor said.

"I've had one already," he smirked. "And soon you will be dead. But I need to know, where is Freedroll."

"Tom Milligan has been imprisoned," said the Doctor. "He abused Martha."

"I know all about that," said Damien. "I thought he was dead. That's fortunate."

"I thought you were dead," said the Doctor. "The dying soul of the Master obliterated you. We all saw."

"Doctor, think," said Damien slowly. "I disintegrated. I am a shape shifter. Put two and two together and what do we have?"

"Oh my God," he gasped. "You're a… half of a…"

"Spit it out," Damien prompted. "I need to hear you say it."

"Yekuletti. The process of changing from one body to another means disintegration in the middle… the shadows are the Malum in their true form aren't they."

"Cold. Repulsive. The opposite to what they can become," Damien agreed. "Their true form."

"And what about you?" asked the Doctor. "What's your true form?"

"You really want to see me?" Damien said. The Doctor nodded.

"Yes."

Damien began to laugh.

!  
!

Martha awoke. She moaned, rolling to her side. She was met with a cold sheet of bright blue. A tarpaulin, she quickly realised. She sucked in a deep breath and batted the heavy material out of her face. Cold water tricked from the top of it into her eyes and she blinked in surprise.

Sitting up and trying to free her legs from the cramp of staying in such an uncomfortable position for so long, she gasped as someone's face was thrust before hers.

"Mrs Lankinson," she gasped.

"What happened?" she asked anxiously. "Are you alright."

"Yeah I'm fine…" Anger overtook Martha and she clenched her fists for a second. "The bastard," she snarled. "I don't believe…"

"Martha," said the old woman uncomfortable. "Calm, please."

"What he didn't think I could handle… or he thought I was incapable… who does he think I am?"

"Who does he think you are?" asked Mrs L genuinely.

"Exactly! What a…sorry Mrs L what the hell is going on?"

"The shadows… they've gone and we're trapped up here."

"Excuse me," a soft male voice spoke in Martha's ear and she whirled her head round. Her mouth dropped open.

"It's you," she said.

!

!

The Doctor screwed his eyebrows together.

"Share the joke," he said wearily.

"You want to see what I look like now," said Damien, still chortling. "Are you mental? You naive old fool."

"I'm just curious," said the Doctor.

"Then I'll keep you in suspense," Damien said wickedly. "You will see me soon, all too soon, and mark my words you will not like it."

"I shall look forward to it," said the Doctor smoothly. "Tell me, who is the real Damien Lee? Who's body did you use to get so close to Tish as Damien? Who did you kidnap?"

"A boy," said Damien. "A nine year old boy. I kept him locked up for nearly twenty years. He grew up so he was almost unrecognisable. Forgotten. His real name was Jason McCarthy."

!

!

At first she thought it was Damien. But then something inside her tweaked, because she knew it wasn't him, not really. His face was softer, more innocent. His eyes were less cold, less harsh- they were streaked with tears.

"I know who you are," breathed Martha. "You're Damien Lee, aren't you? As in the real him? As in the one who the killer kidnapped? You didn't kill anyone?"

"I don't know what you mean," murmured the man. "I'm Jason McCarthy. I was on holiday and a man took me… I was nine…he said I could trust him… and I haven't seen people for years. And now there are people…" Martha's heart went out to him. She reached out and touched his arm. He looked about thirty, maybe a little younger, but he had the mind of the child.

"It's just overwhelming, I suppose," she said. He nodded.

"Nothing but a room, a dark room, now light and sound and people. I'm scared Martha."

"How do you know my name?" Martha said.

"I dreamt about you," he said. "You and another woman, your sister. I killed her." Martha's grip tightened on his arm.

"Did you," she choked. "Did you kill Tish?" He shook his head miserably, and Martha dropped his arm.

"It was just a dream," he said. "I dreamt lots. I killed lots in my dream. It was like I was seeing through the mind of another man- he was in my body. He was in my body."

!

!

"You bastard," said the Doctor, a sick feeling in the pit of his stomach. "And what's to gain, huh? What good has it done you so far?"

"Lots. I avenged my mother's death seventeen times. I avenged Tom's exile seven times. I plan to rescue him. We will rule the galaxy with terror and fear. You will quake before us, you will scream-"

"I've heard it all before," said the Doctor. "And you are nothing. You are a cowardly, despicable piece of scum." Gunshots made them both turn. A group of Mathiella were running down the hill. As the Doctor watched, bullets tore through the flesh of one, causing him to cascade towards them. The Mathiella stopped at the Doctor's feet and on instinct he bent down to help him. Too late. He was dead. The doctor's hearts stopped for a second when he realised who he was looking at.

General Pontouf.

Linfeoe screamed a cry of glory and triumph.

"Our leader has been killed! We are no longer enslaved by his weakness, restricted by his flaws! Drop to your knees and worship me!" The exhausted aliens fell to the ground, tears leaking from some of their eyes. Linfeoe turned on the Doctor.

"And you will die! You will die for obeying our leader!"

"No wait!" The Doctor pointed a long arm at Damien Lee. "This is the man you are looking for. He killed all those people, he killed two of my friends he kidnapped a third. You need to capture him."

"No need," said Damien swiftly. "Me and my man have been doing deals, haven't we Linfeoe." He clapped a hand on the Mathiella's back. Linfeoe smiled and lazily pointed a gun at the Doctor.

"You will die," he repeated, a smile creeping across his scarred face. "As will your lady. You will both die."

"And don't you think you fooled me for one second with the whole 'she's gone home' thing Doc," beamed Damien. "I'm just too darn bright for you."

"Wait just a second," demanded the Doctor. "Please, listen to me." He turned to the Mathiella still squatted on the grass. "This man is responsible for the murder of some of your people. He's evil, and the Mathiella who just killed your leader Pontouf is evil too. You have to respect the deaths of your leaders and more importantly, prevent any others. It is crucial they are dealt with immediately. Only you have the power to do this. Only you." There was no reaction. Damien turned on him, his fist tightening round his tie.

"You will free Freedroll," he threatened.

"No."

"You WILL!" He threw the Doctor to the ground. "Soldiers we will march through the streets and we will kill! Everyone! Then we will ask our friend to reconsider before we move onto Martha Jones!"

"Stop!" cried the Doctor! "Stop!" The next thing he knew he was being kicked through the doors of the lighthouse and the door being deadlocked behind him. Martha. He sprinted up the stairs and into the mess of the people upstairs and hurried over to where she was.

"Martha!" he cried. He dropped to the floor and embraced her warmly. He touched her hair, his heart racing, panic flaring in his chest. He released her and looked deep into her eyes. "Martha," he said again. Her lip curled and she slapped him on the arm. Then she was hugging him again, stroking his arm gently.

"I hate you," she mumbled into his coat. He smiled.

"Come on Jones. We have the world to save!"


	13. Chapter 13

**Another story drawing to a close. I think this will be a few more chapters than the previous one- I still have a lot up my sleeve ready for this one. Quite a few quick twists in the last few chapters- thanks for reading and reviewing!**

"But I don't understand!" Martha cried as she hurried down the winding steps of the lighthouse after the Doctor. "Damien's half a what and half a what?"

"Half a Malum half a Yekuletti. The Malum half makes him attractive; like a drug, like Tom. The Yekuletti part makes his able to shift his shape. However, a full Yekuletti is able to take the shape of anything, but it seems Damien needs them in a place where he can concentrate all his energy on them."

"And that's here," said Martha. "But why did he kill my sister?"

"Because he was avenging the Master's death. That's all he's been doing for years. Avenging death after death, slaughtering life after life."

"He's a nutter," said Martha.

"Yeah. I was thinking this was some massive crime organised by one of the best minds in the galaxy… all this time it was just a lunatic bumbling around like a psycho."

"He is a psycho," Martha added with a shiver. Her heart fluttered when she remembered the corpse by the lake…

Shaking her head to clear her mind of the terrible image, Martha licked her lips and asked another question. "So what are we going to do then? If the Mathiella soldiers are under that Linfioe bloke's command and he's working with Damien they're pretty much uncontrollable. Everyone's going to be killed."

"I won't let that happen," he said. "Somehow we'll stop it. If we can get in the TARDIS, broadcast some message out across the island…"

"The 'I'm a time lord you better watch out' thing is nothing more than a waste of time in this situation, Doctor," Martha said apologetically. He nodded.

"Right. But first we have to get out the door…" Half-heartedly he rubbed the buzzing sonic along the hinge of the door- as if it would work. It was deadlocked, he'd heard them say, and they were stuck. The sonic was useless.

"Doctor! Martha!" The couple turned to see Mrs Lankinson and Jason hurrying down the stairs, the old woman ushering the man before her. "We're in on this one too!" she cried.

"No," said the Doctor. "I don't want you getting hurt."

"And I don't want you running into trouble with manner like that," she scolded him. "And Jason and me having been getting on rather well. He's keen to see this one through too, aren't you boy?"

"I am," said Jason, nodding seriously. "I want to go outside again. I haven't been outside for years."

"We could use the help Doctor," Martha whispered. He looked at them, agonized. Three to one. He shook his head.

"Fine, fine! But you humans don't know what's best for you, huh? I would feel much more comfortable leaving you three here, where I know you're safe…"

"But you don't do you?" snapped Martha. "They could come back at any moment and you wouldn't be here to stop it. And unless you're about to knock me out again- and we have not finished discussing that one mister, I am coming with you."

"As am I," said Mrs L grandly. "And Jason." Jason nodded again.

"Alright, alright, I've already said you're coming," he said. "But if you do something stupid or get yourself hurt, I'm not picking up the pieces."

"I am perfectly capable of looking after myself," Mrs L countered. "We're all with you."

"Well you're going to be staying well on the inside if I can't get this bloody door open!" shouted the Doctor, kicking at the door in anger. Then it flew open, causing him to stumble into the bright light of the outdoor. He looked around at them, half smug half bemused. "See!" he said. "I bet the sonic loosened it a bit!"

"Or that guy opened the door," said Martha. The Doctor spun round to come face to face with a young Mathiella.

"My name is Teir," it said in a female voice. "We came to help you."

"We?" Four or five Mathiella stepped from behind the door. The Doctor turned to Martha and the others, his face flushed with excitement.

"Look at that!" he beamed. "We've got a little band of intergalactic, independent, courageous musketeers! Except without the muskets! Isn't this brilliant!"

"We have come to help you overthrow Linfioe. He had no right to kill Pontouf- or take his place," said one of the Mathiella hanging around the back. Mrs Lankinson smiled widely at the cluster of nervous aliens.

"How thoughtful of you all," she gushed. Martha winced as shrill screams echoed from the distant houses, accompanied with more guns.

"What do we do?" she asked quickly. He nodded, pushing his way out the door and pulling her after him.

"TARDIS," he said. "We can find out the Yekuletti's weakness, and mark my words there will be a weakness, and with the TARDIS we can do anything. We could move her up onto the cliff and amplify, multiply, recreate, invent…"

"Research could take a while," said Mrs Lankinson doubtfully. "The internet is not fast around here. And I'm more in favour of a book than a computer personally."

"No worries Mrs L," said the Doctor. "I have very, very fast broadband." He led the charge up the grass, easily out striding the others as the TARDIS shape became larger and larger as they neared it. The Doctor half smiled as he flicked the doors open and disappeared inside. He was followed by Martha and Jason-who seemed to follow automatically.

"No wait!" Mrs Lankinson grabbed the man by the collar and he skidded to a halt.

"What?"

"Don't go inside," she hissed. "It's tiny!"

"Come on!" Martha cried, stepping out and pushing the woman inside. She gasped in shock and indignation- then fell silent. Martha slid past the frozen woman and ran over to the Doctor.

"What have you got," she asked.

"I'm going through the TARDIS files," he muttered. "Yekuletti, yekuletti, yekuletti, yekuletti!"

"What can I do?" she asked him. He shook his head.

"You're alright," he said. "I don't need any help." She sighed, shoving her hands in her pockets and sloping off. She smiled at Mrs Lankinson who was shaking slightly.

"Oh my God," she was mouthing. "What the… its tiny but it's not…"

"It's bigger on the inside," Martha whispered, déjà vu crawling across her skin. She smiled faintly at the old woman, but this was shattered, as the guns seemed to get closer.

"Doctor they're killing everyone," she said.

"I know! I'm sorry!"

"Doctor they could be my friends! They're my neighbours!"

"I'm trying!" he said. "I'm really trying!"

"Doctor!" Jason stood by the door, his pale face squinting in the unfamiliar light. He was breathing funnily, he looked woozy. Martha rushed over to him and forced him into a chair.

"Okay?" she asked. He nodded.

"I just…"

"I know," she said. "What were you going to say?"

"The Mathi… the alien things are coming. They're coming towards us. They're going to come inside." The Doctor jolted as if from a dream and began working the controls.

"Where are you going?" Martha demanded. "We're not just running away?"

"I'm going into the village," said the Doctor. "We're going to have to sort Linfioe and Damien out. I'm sure that without them the Mathiella would stop killing." The central column rose and fell reassuringly- then plummeted downwards with a sigh. "What? No! Not now!" The Doctor stopped for a second, his eyes wide. "Why?" he yelled. "Why aren't you moving?" Martha knew he was talking to the TARDIS.

"What is she saying?" she asked.

"She won't move," said the Doctor. "She won't say why."

"This has gone on long enough," said the Mathiella. They crouched in the doorway of the TARDIS and raised their guns.

"No!" said Martha. "Doctor- they can't just…" But it was too late. Bullets rained down from the advancing enemy and Jason fell off his chair in shock.

"Stop!" shouted the Doctor. "Stop!" The soldiers didn't listen. They kept firing, their teeth clenched, their jaw firm. The Doctor grabbed Martha and ushered her behind the console.

"Get down!" he shouted, pulling Jason and Mrs Lankinson under as well. Martha covered her ears, hating the horrible images blurring before her but morbidly fascinated; unable to tear her eyes away. She watched as one of the five defending Mathiella twisted and fell, its mouth open in a scream of agony. She made to go out and help it but felt the Doctor's arms clamp around her waist.

"Aren't we going to-" she protested. He shook his head.

"Just stay here!" he said. "I'm sorry." Despite the dying Mathiella sprawled on the metal mesh floor, the four remaining soldiers seemed to be close to victory. From what Martha could see peering out the door, the attacking aliens were few- very few in fact. And all too soon the bullets faded and nothing remained, short of the bodies outside and the acrid smell of fumes. Martha snatched her arm away and slowly made her way over to the four shaken, but unhurt Mathiella. She looked at them, unsure of what she should say.

"We're ok," said one huskily, predicting Martha's words. She wordlessly crouched down to the body on the floor. "He's dead," said the alien again.

"But…"

"They needed stopping," he said firmly. "I- we had to."

The Doctor crossed over to them. Martha turned, expecting him to look angry- furious. But no, he just looked tired. Weary.

"Doctor?" she asked. He shook his head.

"We have to go," he mumbled. "Come on." He grabbed her hand and began to jog out the door. Martha wondered how much more of this was going to happen. Her following him without having any idea where he was going, that was. She shared a glance with Mrs Lankinson, who sighed and heaved herself up in pursuit of the couple.

He led her up the grassy slopes and past the iconic climbing frame (without the slide) and into the streets. They squatted in the bushes as they had done before and watched. The Mathiella soldiers were charging down the street, firing bullets left right and centre, kicking down doors and killing those on the other side. Bodies were trampled down in the road; the air was tinged with screams, crying and death.

"Stop!" shouted the Doctor. "In the name of the Mathiella royalty, the Goddess Feruna, and galactic law stop!" He emerged from the bush, pushing Martha down as she attempted to rise with him. One hand still resting on her shoulder, he surveyed the street.

"I said stop!" His cries rang out through the sleepy village of Portland.

"Hold your fire!" In was Damien- or the killer- strutting through the mass of warring aliens. As he passed a bunch of humans squatted on the floor, he lazily flicked his wrist and shot them on the spot. The bang of the bullet echoed through the silence. Martha reached behind and took Mrs Lankinson's shaking hand.

"It's ok," she hissed. Mrs Lankinson was quivering like a leaf, her face was grey, her eyes darting.

"They're in my house," she squeaked. "They're slaughtering my neighbours." Damien reached the group and Martha stood up, refusing to quail under his appraising gaze. He looked over her shoulder at the woman and the man, the five alien soldiers, then out across the sea.

"You have no right," he said. "To be here."

"What makes you think you have the right to?" replied the Doctor calmly.

"It's me," hissed Jason. "It's me. Oh my God." Damien pushed past Mrs Lankinson, shoved Martha aside and pressed his fingers against Jason's temples. The man let out a little sigh and slumped to the ground. Mrs Lankinson caught him, lowered him to the floor.

"Jason," she breathed. "Jason?"

"He'll be fine," said the Doctor after sweeping a diagnostic eye over him. "I just want to make sure everyone else will be."

"Don't worry," said Damien. "We'll take care of them. Don't you worry."

"Why?" asked Martha, pushing ahead. "Why are you doing this? What's the point?"

"Martha Jones!" said Damien, smiling cruelly. "I killed your sister! Did you enjoy the party?" Martha opened her mouth to retort angrily, then sagged.

"I-" The Doctor curled a hand round hers and squeezed it tenderly.

"You're going to stop this now," he said. "Because these people have done nothing to you and you have killed too, too many innocent people. And I will not stand for this."

"I will not stand for you imprisoning Freedroll, stopping the master and denying me my rights! I have had enough of being looked down on by the likes of you! Soldiers!"

"Stop!" It was one of the Mathiella who had freed them from the lighthouse. He ran forward, ignoring the Doctor's warning hand on his arm. He shrugged him off and turned appealing eyes towards the Mathiella gathered in silence across the street.

"Shoot it!" barked Damien.

"No! Wait! Listen to me!" Nobody moved. The Mathiella coughed slightly, looking back at his former comrades. "Listen. Just please; ask yourself what you are doing. You are following the orders of a murderer! Don't forget, he is the assassin of no less than seventeen of our royal family. That's seventeen less people left to look out for us, ensure our freedom, promote justice within our world. And after all he has done, you can still find it within you to serve under him? He is a killer. He will turn on you in a second. These people, the natives of planet earth, are innocent as far as we are concerned. They have done nothing, these people are civilians. And how many slaughtered? I plead you, I beg you. Join us, five of your people, and we can overcome this murderer. We can imprison him, bring justice. All it takes is every one of you to see this man is wrong. What do you say?"

There was silence. Then, suddenly, Damien lurched forward.

"No!" he screamed. "You will not, cannot!" He fumbled with the pistol in his hand. The Doctor leapt forward.

"No!" The bullet cracked through the sky. Martha pushed the Doctor to the ground, out of the way. She spat gravel out her mouth and looked upwards. The Mathiella speaker was swaying like a gentle tree in the breeze. A trickle of blood ran from his mouth and he fell heavily on the ground. Damien turned round, his eyes wide.

"Who's the strongest now? Who's the real leader! Huh?" Silence. Then, a Mathiella soldier stepped forward. Damien watched as the fighter walked slowly towards him- and spat contemptuously at his feet. His mouth fell slack as the warrior went and stood by the remaining three Mathiella. Nothing was said.

Then, like a surge of waves, all the Mathiella walked forward, past Damien, only pausing to glance on hi scornfully, before moving on and standing by the hedge. Excitement fluttering in Martha's heart she grinned widely.

"It's going to be ok," she said. The Doctor beamed, holding her hand tighter and tighter.

"I think you're right," he agreed. His lips brushed her hair. "As usual." Trying to focus her attention on the now almost empty street, Martha observed as Damien dropped to his knees. As she watched, she noticed a figure loitering in the shadows.

"Linfioe," she breathed. He shuffled forwards, unsure of where to go. Damien looked up at him expectantly, and the Mathiella avoided his gaze. Making his way through the bodies and the few live humans slumped amongst the road; he stopped by the crowd of his colleagues. The Doctor stepped forward.

"You've lost," he said simply. "You'll come with me and you'll be locked away for a very long time. And its not going to be pleasant. And you're going to come quietly or else…" He pretended to count the Mathiella assembled behind him. "Oooh, rather a lot of Mathiella are going to get a tad shirty with you."

"You bastard," Damien growled, stumbling to his feet. He crossed over to the Doctor who searched through his large pockets until he finally found a pair of handcuffs. He clapped them on Damien's wrists firmly and spun him round.

"You stay here," he said to Mrs L. "Look after everyone, get people back inside. Me and Martha will be back to help soon."

"Take care," she said clumsily. He nodded and hooked his arm around Martha's. They led Damien down the five-minute walk to Portland bill. They reached the TARDIS and the Doctor used his key to open the door and usher Damien inside. Then Damien spun around, cuffing the Doctor on the chin. He uttered a short, sharp exclamation and staggered back, tasting blood in his mouth. Damien laughed.

"Didn't you say Doctor, you wanted to see me as my true self?"

"No," said the Doctor, panic flashing across his face. "No!"

"Doctor?" asked Martha. "What is it?"

"A Yukeletti's true form," he said. "It's…"

"Fatal," said Damien. "To look at. The light from earlier…"

"The earthquake," Martha breathed. "That was you?"

"And again," said Damien. "Right now!" And he began to change.


	14. Chapter 14

Martha seemed to be frozen, staring at the space where Damien was standing. His eyes were closed, his lips parted, completely still. A faint, yellowish light was shining in the pit of his throat, like a fairy light glistening at a child's party. As they watched, the light seemed to get bigger- bigger or closer, like a train speeding down a tunnel in the dead of night.

It was only when the light was at the crease of his thin lips that the Doctor jolted from his trance.

"Run!" he shouted. He grabbed her hand and tugged her away from the TARDIS. They darted along the open ground, past the lighthouse where all those people were sheltering and into the deserted car park behind the site. Then, with a shudder, the ground seemed to move and they both fell on to the hard concrete floor.

"It's happening," said Martha, her ribs aching. "It's happening again!"

"We need to shelter," he said. "The lighthouse will probably collapse and it will crush us if we get too close."

"The lighthouse?" Martha's heart stopped for a second. "Doctor the people… inside. They're going to die." He cussed softly and looked back at the lighthouse. Sighing, he looked at Martha.

"We're going to have to go in," he said.

"I know." She led the way, taking his hand tighter and running towards the tall building. But they never got there. The ground literally opened up and they stumbled back, yelling hoarsely. The lighthouse slid majestically into the crack in the earth so only the bulb was emerged from the tufts of grass. Martha swore she could hear distant screams inside the structure.

"What now?" she asked. But there was no time to answer. The scalding light burnt through the sky again and they dropped to their knees, burying their faces to the floor. Martha felt the Doctor's hand on her back, ushering her to her feet. She pressed her head into his long coat, which he pulled over their heads.

"Come on!" he said. "TARDIS!" Staggering across the now empty expanse, they made their way towards the time ship. Damien had disappeared. Kicking open the doors, they fell onto the metal mesh floors. Martha nudged the door closed and collapsed on the floor, her limbs shaking. The light shone through the small windows of the TARDIS; she kneaded her eyes to avoid looking at the light. She could see the Doctor pounding around the TARDIS; a blurry shadow in her restricted vision.

"Doctor," she managed, heaving her aching body towards him. "What are we doing?"

"No no no no no!" he growled, ignoring her. "Don't do this to me."

"She won't move?" Martha asked. He shook his head grimly.

"I was going to get Mrs L and Jason and all those Mathiella away to safety," he said. "We need to protect them from the Yukeletti."

"Then why won't she move?"

"I just don't know. She's very upset about it. Apparently she can't tell me."

"Why not?"

"She just can't," he sighed. He tossed back his head and clapped his hands together. "Right then! We'll need to tackle this alien minus immortal time ship!"

"What does it look like?" Martha asked.

"Dunno. Nobody does. The only people who have seen it…"

"Die."

"Yes."

"Like Harry Potter," she said idly.

"What?"

"You know, the chamber of secrets. The basilisk. Dumbledore sends down Forks the phoenix who blinds it and then Harry gets that sword and slices it's brain open."

"Thing is, it's not just looking into the Yukeletti's eyes that will kill you. It's its whole being." A roar shuddered the ground as something that sounded like rocks shattered down outside the TARDIS. Martha winced.

"What do we do?" she asked.

"Improvise." He ran to door, looked back at Martha, and seemed to deliberate. She folded her arms across her chest.

"I'm coming," she said wearily. He nodded once and ran out the door, leaving her sprinting to catch up. The moment she was out the blinding light hit her again; she looked determinedly at the ground and followed the Doctor's bright red converses. By the time they were on the road, her head was pounding. She let out an extra spurt of speed and caught up with the Doctor, scrabbling for his hand.

"We're almost there," he said. She noticed her was groping inside his large pocket and he extracted his sonic screwdriver. He gripped it between his teeth and pushed open a wire gate that barely broke his stride, and carried on until he reached Mrs L's road.

It was once again teeming with terrified humans and Mathiella alike, screams piercing the salty wind.

"Don't look up!" screamed the Doctor. "Don't look up!" But even Martha, immediately next to his could hardly hear his anguished cries. As he watched, several Mathiella glanced upwards at the sky- and fell, screaming loudly as their eyeballs were burnt from their face.

"It's useless," Martha said. "They can't hear us." The Doctor was doing something to his sonic screwdriver, but she couldn't see amongst the sprawl of the panicked locals. Then he held it up like a microphone, and spoke into it.

"LISTEN TO ME!" His voice rang out across the island; the screams subsided slightly. He licked his lips. "Listen," he repeated. "Don't look up. Don't even glance at the light if you do, your eyes will be burnt from your skull and you'll die. I know a safe place. Follow-" A shadow fell over the gathered people and the Doctor's words fell from his lips and dissolved into the silence. Martha forced her head down, staring at the road, her eye pricking with tears in the effort.

"Don't look up," said the Doctor quietly. "The thing… the alien is directly above us. If you look up-"

"Bullshit!" shouted a large, red-faced man. He swaggered up to the Doctor. "Listen mate, I don't know what your game is scaring us all like this-" He raised his head, as if to look up…

"Don't!" Martha cried, but it was too late. His mouth opened in a scream and he dropped to the ground, dead. Silence.

Then, as if the unknown man's death had been a trigger, the shrieking began again. Like a swarm of locusts, the residents of Portland began to spill out of the street and ran down the path to the beach.

"Wait!" shouted the Doctor. "Stop!" But they were deaf in their terror. A snarl could be heard from far, far above them and something smashed down on the houses of the street. Rubble flew everywhere and Martha ducked behind the bushes. When she looked up, the street was almost empty, all the former occupants fleeing down the hill. Another crashing blow from the monster sent the gravel she was standing on tumbling down the hill with her on it. She groaned, curling her hands round her stomach as she rolled down the hill. The brambles whipped her face, but provided a cushion to land on. She lay, dazed.

"Doctor!" she shouted. "Doctor!" She saw the people running along the stretch of the beach; saw pebbles skidding as their feet slipped on the unstable footholds. She ran over to them and grabbed the first person she saw by the shoulder- a woman.

"What are you doing, get off me!" she screamed. Martha ignored her.

"Listen," she said. "Run to Portland bill. There's a box, a blue box. It's safe in there. Trust me. Take your friends, take your family, and run there." The woman hesitated. Martha pressed a key into the woman's hand. "Take this. It's the key. Don't lose it." The woman nodded and continued along the beach. Martha grabbed another person and sent them on their way. Some people she was able to persuade, but others she didn't. Saving some, but not others. Just like being a doctor.

Again, the shadow fell across the beach. Martha kept her head down and carried on talking. Ushering people off the beach and towards Portland bill. She heard something smashing on the beach behind her, scattering the pebbles, provoking screams of both pain and fear. Another smash, closer this time. Martha ran forward. Where was the Doctor?

A third smash rippled the ground directly behind her. She screamed and fell. A tsunami of rocks carried her downwards to the waters edge and into the freezing cold grey waters of a typical British beach. She gasped in shock and stood shivering, gazing into the water. Then she saw something. A shape in the water.

It was horrible. Big, massive, and shiny. Spikes jutting from its dripping black flesh, brown slime oozing from its every pore. Something that resembled a mouth wide open in a snarl of rage. Martha realised with a jolt that she was staring straight at the true form of the Yukeletti- its reflection at least.

A scream washed over her and she plummeted into the icy waters.

!  
!

The Doctor hurried down the hill, his feet tripping over each other in his haste. He'd awoken in wreckage of someone's home, unaware he'd even lost consciousness.

"Faster, faster, faster, faster, faster," he muttered. He rounded the corner and for the first time he saw the beach. He stopped. "Oh Rassilon." Deserted. He ran faster until he reached the beach. The stones were unsettled, bodies were floating in the water.

"Doctor!" He spun round, and saw Mrs Lankinson and Jason sheltering beneath the ruined pier. He threw his arms around them both thankfully.

"Where is she?" he asked. Mrs Lankinson shook her head.

"I don't know. I'm sorry." The Doctor twisted round in anger.

"And where's the monster?"

"Gone," she said. "Most people ran towards Portland bill. Apparently a woman told them to go to the blue box."

"Martha," he realised. "Is she there."

"I don't think so." Fear churning in his gut, he spun around again.

"MARTHA!" No reply. Then something caught his eye in the water. "Shit." It was a black leather jacket. He ran into the water, splashing it, tears running down his cheeks, and came out carrying Martha Jones. He laid her on the ground, muttering feverish pleas underneath his breath. He pounded her chest, chugged air into her lungs, checking her reaction every other breath.

Then she choked, sat upright.

"Yes, yes, yes, yes," he muttered. Her sopping wet hair stuck to her face, she was shivering. He hugged her close, rubbing her back. "You're ok."

"Doctor-"

"Have my coat," he said, wrapping the garment round her shoulders. "There."

"Doctor-"

"It's ok," he said. "You're ok, you saved people."

"Doctor, I saw it," she rasped. "I saw the monster." He shook his head frantically.

"No you didn't, because you're ok. You're ok Martha."

"The reflection," she explained. "I can feel…burning inside…" She took the Doctor's hand and pressed it to her chest. Her heart was pounding so fast the beats ran into each other. He shook his head.

"No," he moaned. She nodded.

"Am I going to die?" she asked. She was trying to be brave; but she couldn't keep the quiver from her lip.

The Doctor couldn't answer.


	15. Chapter 15

"It's ok," he managed finally. "I'll save you." She whimpered slightly, a small smile coming to her lips.

"I thought you said you weren't picking up the pieces," she quoted. He smiled slightly, but made no comment. Instead he kissed her gently, touched her hair and lifted her gently off the stony beach. She gasped at his touch, then settled down in his arms.

"I love you," she told him seriously. He nodded earnestly.

"I love you," he repeated. "Which is why I'm going to look after you."

"Sorry," she said. "I didn't mean to look in the water, stupid of me, I didn't think. I mean-"

"Ssh," he told her. "Why are you apologising?"

"Well I-" She was crying now, and he joined in a little. Then he was surprised to hear a little chuckle escape from her lips.

"What?" he asked.

"You're beautiful," she said. He shook his head.

"You're delirious."

"No, I'm not. I wanted to tell you. I'm so tired."

"Don't close your eyes," he said. She blinked slightly, but forced her eyelids apart.

"Ok?" she asked his roughly. He nodded. His hearts were racing, but time seemed to have frozen around them. He stared into her beautiful dark eyes and wiped a hot tear from the corner of one of them.

"Please don't cry," he said.

"Ok," she said, blinking her tears back. She smiled weakly. "Better?"

"Come on you," he said, kissing her again. "You're coming to the TARDIS and we'll try the medical nano gene on you, hey?"

"Oh," she said. "But… I used the last one on you." The Doctor's hopes plummeted but he forced an optimistic smile onto his face.

"No problem," he said. "We'll figure something out, yeah?" He laced his long fingers around hers and turned to where the old woman and the confused man were hovering nervously. "Coming?" he asked. Mrs Lankinson nodded.

"Yeah," she said, treating Martha to a scared glance. "We're coming." She took Jason's hand tightly; he clung to her like a child. The Doctor began to carry Martha along the beach, but she stopped him.

"I can walk on my own," she said. "I don't need you to carry me." But when she took a tentative step forward the Doctor had to grab her to keep her from plunging towards the ground. So they walked together, arms draped around each other in both affection and support, along Chesil beach. The Doctor helped her up the weak, stone steps and onto the pier, and his hand fluttered to her stomach.

"Is he ok in there?" he asked.

"I hope so," Martha said. Then her face crumpled. "If I die, he'll die too."

"Hey, hey," said the Doctor. "We both know that's not going to happen. Come on, I'll look after you both. You know that." She nodded weakly, wiping fresh tears from her face.

It seemed like forever, but the four exhausted survivors managed to make it to the TARDIS. The blue box, standing out in the empty field- excluding the tip of the emerged lighthouse- was the most reassuring thing Martha had seen for years.

"Here we are," he said fake cheerfully. "Nothing to worry about now."

"Doctor, I forgot to tell you, I told the people on the beach to come here. They're in the TARDIS. I couldn't think of anywhere else to send them. I thought that's what you would have done."

"It was," he said. "But right now, don't worry about them. We need to worry about you." He opened the doors of the TARDIS, saw the fifty odd people gathered inside the Time ship and pushed past them. He led Martha to her bedroom (which was empty) and encouraged her to sit down on her bed. She was growing pale and sickly; her previously speeding heart rate was slowing into an irregular, sluggish pound.

Noticing his scrutiny, she smiled at him through grey lips. Her eyes remained dull.

"Stay here," he said, pacing up and down twitchily. "No, wait… I'll just…"

"Doctor," Martha interrupted. "Slow down."

"Right. Yes. Sorry."

"Well if you two are just going to sit tight and worry about things then your unfit to be trusted with anything," said Mrs Lankinson, bursting in. "Oh, what a lovely room."

"Thank you," Martha replied.

"Now Doctor do you have some kind of new fangled, oh I don't know, medicine, or something." He shook his head. "No? No kind of cure or anything? Nothing?"

The Doctor spoke, his voice rough and haggard. "No, I don't… at least I don't think so… I was thinking about… but it's too…"

"It's too what. Risky? Drastic? Tell us man!"

"It's just… to be used in an emergency," he said lamely.

"What do you think this is you blithering idiot? Snap to it! And fast! Do you want to save Martha or don't you?"

"Doctor?" said Martha, and for the first time he noticed fear in her tone. He turned his gaunt face in her direction.

"Come with me," he said, helping her back to her feet. She winced but gritted her teeth and limped across the floor. Mrs Lankinson made to follow but the Doctor stopped her. "Sorry, no," he said sternly. "You can't come in." Mrs Lankinson's thin lip curled, but she detected the apologetic urgency in the Doctor's voice.

"Fine," she said. "I'll go and find Jason." The Doctor smiled at her and led Martha out of the adjoining door that connected their rooms.

"Doctor, why wouldn't you let Mrs Lankinson come with us?" Martha managed between gasps.

"The room I'm taking you to- sit down for a second Martha- the room I'm taking you to is… special to me. I've kept it secret for a long, long time. It's my personal space, completely secret, private, and I can only show it to people I truly, truly love, with all of my hearts. Even then…" he paused, the ghosts of sorrow and sadness appearing in his dark eyes. "Martha, its like… the heart of the TARDIS, I've told you about, this is like what keeps the heart beating. The memories of Galifrey, the Citadel, the Time Lords. I've never taken anyone there before but it's the only way I can save you." All this time the Doctor had been pulling apart the metal mesh floor, wriggling underneath like a worm, his sonic clasped between his teeth. Then, suddenly, something like peace washed over Martha and her face was lit up by a passive green glow.

"Is that it?" she breathed. The Doctor straightened up and fully opened the trapdoor carved into the floor of the TARDIS.

"That's it," he said. He reached out his arm. "Take my hand." She let him usher her through the trapdoor into another world.

It glowed green, orange, red, blue… every colour she could think of and more. She let out a shuddering little breath.

"It's going to save me," she said. "You're going to save me." The Doctor planted a kiss on her forehead, and she felt a hot tear trickle into her hair.

"I love you," he gasped. She wrapped her arms around his neck, kissing him along his face, his neck, and his collarbone.

"I love you more," she said.

"Impossible," he said. "Listen. You're going to feel tired. You're going to feel very, very tired. And I want you to give in to the tiredness and drift away."

"What's going to happen," she asked.

"Trust me," he said. And suddenly her eyelids felt ever so heavy and she let out a small sigh and she sagged in the Doctor's arms. Her head lolled on his shoulder and he kissed it one last time. Then, sinking like a departing ship, he slid to the ground in a deep slumber beside her.

Martha's eyes fluttered open and she was brought back to consciousness. She could see nothing, nothing at all. It was dark, empty.

"Hello?" she called, moving forward. That was when she realised she had no body. "Hello?" Then, gleaming like a Christmas light, a bluish glow engulfed Martha. She gasped in surprise, then grew calm.

_You are ready. _

The voice danced like a whisper of wind, so light, yet so full of knowledge and wisdom. "You're the TARDIS," Martha realised.

_You _are_ ready? _This time the voice sounded questioning. Martha nodded quickly.

"I am," she said.

_Martha Jones is ready. Martha Jones is ready. Martha Jones is…. ready. _Then, the blue light vanished as quickly as it had appeared and the world was collapsing around her.

He was there. The Doctor. But not her Doctor. He was older, more serious. His hair was grey, his face was wrinkled, his voice heavy with age.

"Your former self," she whispered. "Doctor?" He seemed not to hear her. He was gazing ahead of him at a small television. He began to speak, as if in a trance.

"During all the years I've been taking care of you, you in turn have been taking care of me." Who was he talking to? Martha gazed around and her eyes rested on the movement on the screen. A young woman with cropped hair was standing, anxiety striking across her face, panic, sorrow and grief rendering frustration to her tone. Behind her stood a dirty faced man, hovering, as if he was not sure what he should be doing. The woman spoke, flinging her arms above her head.

"But Grandfather I belong with you!" Grandfather? The Doctor cut across her with determined words.

"Not any longer! You belong here Susan. You're still my Grandchild, and always will be. But now, you're a woman too. I want you to belong somewhere, to have roots of your own. With David, you will find these roots and like normally like any other woman should do. Believe me, my dear; your future lies with David and not with a silly old buffer like me! One day, I shall come back. Yes I shall come back. Until then, there must be no regrets, no tears, no anxieties. Just go forward in all your beliefs, and prove to me that I am not mistaken in mine. Goodbye, Susan. Susan, my dear." And the TV screen went blank.

Martha realised she was crying. Crying for the old Doctor, the wise, quiet Doctor. Crying for Susan and David. His grandchild and his… companion?

"But do you?" she whispered. "Do you come back?"

_What do you think? _The sorrow and weariness in the Time ship's tone brought her to tears.

"Why is he so unhappy? Why does he do that to himself?" She gazed at his lined face, stunned from the loss of his Grand daughter. Then he seemed to dissolve around her; she was somewhere else.

"And what about me?" Martha spun round and saw the Doctor, not her Doctor, not the first Doctor, but a stranger. It looked as if he was under trial, he stood small before taller others, looking like a naughty schoolboy about to be punished.

"We have accepted your plea, that there is evil in the universe that must be fought, and that you will still have a part to play in that battle." The speaker was a tall, stern man sporting a large kind of headdress.

"But you mean, you're going to let me go free?" The Doctor's voice seemed incredulous, spiked with hope. The headdress man looked behind him at a figure emerged in the gloom. What had he done, what had the Doctor done, that was so serious he was put up before a court?

"Not entirely," said the man. "We have noticed your particular interest in the planet earth. The frequency of your visits must have given you special knowledge of that world and its problems."

"Yes, yes, I suppose that's true. Earth seems more venerable than other, yes." So the Doctor's strange obsession for earth went back a long way, then?

"For that reason you will be there, to that planet. Oh, good. In exile." The Doctor flinched.

"In exile," he repeated. His accent reminded Martha of well-bred, mild mannered, English gentlemen.

"You will be sent to earth in the twentieth century, and will remain there for as long as we deem proper. And for that period, the secret of the TARDIS will be taken from you." The Doctor began to stammer.

"But you can't condemn me to exile, in one primitive planet, in one century in time! Besides, I'm known on the earth! It would be very awkward for me!"

"Your appearance has changed before, it will change again. That is part of the sentence."

"No," moaned Martha. "You can't do this to him… you don't know him…you don't understand!" The Doctor seemed to share her anger; he jumped forward in rage.

"You can't just change what I look like without consulting me!"

"You will have an opportunity to chose your appearance."

"Oh that's all right then!" screamed Martha. "What are you doing are you mad…" The Doctor cut her of.

"Oh… oh well that's not so bad, but I warn you I'm very particular!"

"What are you taking about?" Martha gasped. "You can't just accept it, you wouldn't just accept it!"

_Martha, it's time to go. _

"But he's…" 

_This happened long ago, we cannot change it._

"But-"

And then the Doctor sank into nothingness, along with the assembled people Martha could only assume were Time lords. She was breathing heavily.

"What's going on?" she asked. "TARDIS? Why are you doing this?"

_Look around you. Where are you? _Martha obeyed. She looked round, she was on a beach. And standing there was Rose Tyler.

"Not this," she groaned. "Please don't do this to me." As she watched, somebody else appeared. The Doctor, chippy and lined like a bad TV. Rose turned to look at him.

"Where are you?" she asked.

"Inside the TARDIS. There's one tiny little gap in the universe left. Just about to close. And it takes a lot of power to set this projection I'm in orbit around a super-nova… burning up the sun just to say goodbye." Rose shook her head.

"You look like a ghost."

"Hold on." The image of the Doctor fiddled with his screwdriver, pointed it to the ground, and the image improved. Rose walked towards him, keeping the tears at bay. She reached out a hand.

"Can I-"

"I'm still just an image," he said. "No touch." Martha watched as they talked softly and she felt a lump grow in her throat.

"Take me away," she said in a trembling voice. "I don't want to see any more."

"I- I love you." Martha looked back at them, she couldn't help it. The Doctor opened his mouth.

"Rose Tyler," he said. Then the image cut off and Rose resolved into tears.

_Do you see how much pain has occurred in his life?_

"Yes," said Martha. "I understand… please, take me back."

_If you go back now, you will die. Do you want that? _

Martha shook her head. "No," she said shakily.

_Why not?_

"Why not?" Martha swallowed. "Because my baby, mine and the Doctor's baby, our baby, he'll die with me. And my family will go mad because they just lost Tish." She gulped. "And they'll never even know I was pregnant. And the Doctor. He said he loves me-"

_He does love you._

"I don't want him to suffer ever again," she said. "He's suffered so much and I never even appreciated… all these people getting close to him and then leaving them, they don't understand…"

_And you do?_

The scene changed again, and Martha found herself staring at her and the Doctor standing together in the TARDIS.

"I just can't," she was saying. "I spent all these years training as a doctor and now I've got people to look after. I saw half the planet slaughtered and then devastated, I can't leave them." The Doctor shook his head.

"Course not." Martha shook her head, watching herself and the Doctor share a moment of silence.

"I had to," she whispered. "I couldn't just run away after all that happened, people needed looking after."

"Thank you," the Doctor said, reaching forward to hug her. Then Martha felt the pain of leaving him all over again, watching herself in the arms of the man who had changed her life in so many ways. They drew apart, and now his tone was breezy.

"Martha Jones, you saved the world!"

"Yes I did. I spent a lot of time with you thinking I was second best but you know what- I am good." She hesitated. "You gonna be alright?"

"Always am."

"Right then. Bye." She reached up to kiss him on the cheek and headed out the TARDIS. Then she saw herself come back in, her tone faster, more rushed.

"You see, it's like my friend Vikki, she lived with this bloke, student housing, you'd find them all packed in, this bloke was called Shaun. And she loved him. she did, she completely adored him, spent all day long taking about him-"

"Is this going anywhere?"

"Yes! 'Cause he never looked at her twice. I mean, he liked her. That was it. And she wasted years pining after him, years of her life because when he was around she never looked at anyone else. And I always said to her, time and time again, get out. So this is me. Getting out." She reached in her pocket, tossed his her mobile. "Keep that. 'Cause I'm not having you disappear. If that rings- when that rings- it means you better come running, got it?"

"Got it." She made to walk away, then turned her head, and now she was smiling.

"I'll see you again, mister." Now he smiled as well, watching as he stared out the door, which she had just, disappeared through, and Martha knew she was going to lie on her bed and cry for at least an hour. She sighed.

"I'm sorry," she whispered. "I didn't know he cared."

_Do you want to go back to him, now?  
_

She nodded. Then she was back in the black, empty place. She felt herself fall to the ground, felt something stir inside her. She screamed as a shooting pain ripped in her chest.

"Oh my God," she whispered, pressing her hand to her chest. She felt her heartbeat fluttering under her hand… and felt an echo. She had two hearts. She tossed her head back, her hearts- her HEARTS racing.

"What have you done?" she whispered, and closed her eyes.


	16. Chapter 16

The Doctor's eyes snapped open.

"Martha!" He saw her awaking beside him, breathing fast, confused.

"Doctor?" she asked, grabbing his hand. "What just happened?"

"Are you ok?" he asked. "Did it work? Are you hurt?" Martha hesitated, and then shook her head.

"No," she said slowly. She looked at him, smiling oddly. "No. I'm… good." He nodded, keeping his head hung low. She reached out, touched his arm. He flinched away. "What is it?" she asked.

"I'm so sorry," he said.

"What for?"

"For what I did to you."

"Why?" He swallowed, looked up. His eyes looked haunted.

"What do you think I did to you?" he asked. She paused.

"I-" It was so hard to say. "You changed me into… Doctor, I have two hearts."

"What does that mean?"

"The TARDIS changed me into a Time… a Time Lady?"

"Exactly!" he sighed. "So your life span is longer, you regenerate, you have two hearts, you have the power of telepathy, you can withstand the cold, the hot, certain chemicals."

"And that's bad?"

"Martha time will go on and you won't! Your family- people you know, will age yet you won't change at all." She sagged slightly, but looked up optimistically.

"You won't change either," she said. "Me and you… Doctor you're not alone any more. That's good!"

"I was never alone," he said. "Not really. Not when I had you. Why do you think you travelled with me Martha?"

"Because you were lonely," she replied. "You needed someone to be there, just there, for you to talk to, to look after you, someone to pass the time with. And you spotted me."

"You know that's not true. You travelled with me because I liked you. I love you. But now I changed you. I've cursed you."

"Shut up!" she said. "You're scaring me now! Doctor, please, listen. I've saw you… you as in the old yous, you were always saying goodbye, you were always leaving people- or people were leaving you, always loosing, so much sadness. I saw Susan." His head jerked up in recognition. "Your Grand-daughter. You sacrificed your feelings so that she could be with this David- who was he, some kind of companion?"

"No," he said. "A 22nd century freedom fighter."

"You lost so much so she could be happy. And I saw you exiled, they forced you to regenerate. I saw you say goodbye to Rose. I saw you say goodbye to me. I'm so sorry; I didn't know how much you lost. And now, I love you, and we can stay together forever. It's better this way, better for me, better for you. There are sacrifices- but on the whole…"

"I didn't want to," he said. "I love you, and I want to be with you, but I would never have been so selfish as to force you to become like me so we could be closer. But the TARDIS wouldn't move, not even to save lives. It was obvious that something had been written in time, something unchangeable, something inflexible. Something like this. Then, when you were dying, I figured it out." He swallowed. "I'm not going to withdraw my apology. But I'm glad you're… ok with it. Honestly."

"Honestly," she said. "I'm better than ok with it." Then she bit her lip. "What about the baby?" she asked. "Because when I conceived I was human so- oh my God is it going to be part Malum? Because that's what Tom was and he's the father- how prominent will that be? Or will me becoming a Time Lady change him… or her, into a Time Lord or Lady?"

"I don't know," said the Doctor. "I've never done this before."

"That's encouraging," she said. "Call me overly possessive, but I don't like the idea of you turning pregnant women into Time Ladies on a regular basis." His face cracked into a smile.

"We'll get you a scan. In the TARDIS, I hate to think what a human doctor might discover. They do get worked up over little thing these humans do." Martha reached out and took his hand, and this time he didn't recoil to her touch.

"Shall we?" she asked.

"We shall," he nodded. He helped her up and they left the secret room under the Doctor's bedroom, sealing the trapdoor and replacing the floor. Someone ran into the room.

"Doctor!" It was Jason. "Doctor, he's out there, me… the other me. What are you doing?" The Doctor was scanning him with his screwdriver.

"He's human," said the Doctor. "Jason, does he know you know where he is?"

"Yes," said Jason. "The weird, pale alien things are shooting at him."

"And we have to stop them, don't we?" said Martha. "Doctor?" He didn't answer.

"Come on you two," he said. "Yonder." He strode confidently into the console room. The mathiella were crouched in the doorway, some on their knees, some straightened up. As they got a better view, the Doctor and Martha realised they were surrounding the TARDIS as well. They all had their guns raised.

"Oh its terrible exciting," said Mrs L, coming over to them, her face flushed, her eyes gleaming. "Martha! You're all right? Thank God, what the devil did the man do?" Thankfully she did not stop for an answer. "It's been ever so exciting, they've been shooting for about five minutes, the brute keeps changing its shape- look its doing it now! What is it… good God, it's old Mrs Gregory, she runs a small little newsagents. Look at her! And what's more, literally two seconds ago, all the people from the lighthouse starting spilling out and they came in here! Then the lad went barmy, he was swapping his body like nobody's business-"

"Why doesn't it just change into its real form?" murmured Martha.

"Just be thankful it hasn't," he replied. "Come on." He set down the hill at a run. Martha followed him, pushing past some of the gun wielding Mathiella. She prayed they'd stop shooting. She hadn't been planning on entering her next incarnation that quickly.

"Stop your guns!" shouted the Doctor. "STOP!"

"You fool, you're in the way!" retorted one of the warriors. Linfioe. Despite changing sides he still seemed to be a tad violent.

"Give us a chance!" Martha protested. "Lower your weapons." She didn't look back to see if they obeyed. All she knew was that the bullets stopped and they reached the old woman.

"Hello," said the Doctor. She looked up, and morphed back into Damien.

"Doctor." He nodded at Martha. "Miss Jones." She couldn't bring herself to reply. He snarled, made to get up, and grunted. Blood splattered on the cliff side. He had been shot through his shoulder.

"You're weak," said the Doctor. "Weak and pathetic. You think you're the master, but you're wrong. So, so wrong. Look at yourself!"

"I'm strong enough to kill you!" he rasped, lunging forward. The doctor didn't even bother to move back, for Damien collapsed onto the floor, moaning.

"What happened?" asked Martha.

"I lost control," he admitted from her feet. "I couldn't change…"

"Because the people whose bodies you chose aren't in a place where you can concentrate the energy any more!" realised the Doctor. "And you're only a half Yukeletti, so you can't stay as your real self for too long, you're too vulnerable and-"

"And now you've lost control of whose body you take the form of and that's why you were chopping and changing so much!" finished Martha. The doctor looked over at her and smiled.

"Yes," he said. "Exactly."

"I'm burning," he said. "Doctor, help me! Doctor!" He rolled on his back, his eyes blurred with tears. "I'm going to die."

"How can I trust you," said the Doctor.

"Please," said Damien. "Martha please. Your sister would have wanted-"

"Don't!" snapped the Doctor. "Don't you dare talk about Tish like that!"

"Save me," he said. "I don't care what you do to me, imprison me, trap me, punish me, but I don't want to die." Martha looked at the Doctor.

"What can we do?" she whispered. He shrugged.

"What do you want to do?" Martha looked at the sobbing, begging man on the floor in loathing.

"He doesn't deserve to die," she said. "Just help him." He sobbed louder.

"Thank you, thank you," he said lurching forward. Martha jumped back.

"Don't touch me," she said, the dead face of her sister flashing in her face. Immediately, she felt guilty. Would Tish really have wanted her killer to live?

The Doctor bent down, and rummaged in his pocket. He extracted a gun. 

"Doctor!" yelped Martha.

"It's a tranc," he reassured her. He shot it into Damien's shoulder, who sagged. The Doctor dragged him up the hill, clapping his hands together in handcuffs. As the unconscious body passed the Mathiella, they all took the liberty of spitting on him again.

"Are you sure it's safe," said Martha doubtfully as they came inside the TARDIS.

"I'm keeping him in suspended animation. The TARDIS will sort that out for me. If we put him in here-" He dumped Damien in the same cell Tom had been kept in not so long before. "He'll be fine." He slammed the door shut, sighing. "It's done."

"Thank you," said Martha. The Doctor hugged her tightly. It was the longest hug they had ever shared together, they just stood for what seemed like hours, holding onto each other. Yet it was all over too quickly, for Mrs Lankinson stormed in on them.

"Doctor! Martha! This is all very lovely but you seem to have rather a lot of aliens and an equally large amount of normal people more than a little confused back there. So if you'd be a dear and get them sorted out. What are you two going to do?"

"What we always do when we have rather a lot of aliens and an equally large amount of 'normal' people who are more than a little confused." Mrs Lankinson raised an eyebrow.

"Which is?"

"Tea!" he laughed. "We put a brew on." But Martha didn't smile.

"Doctor, we need to help them," she said. "They've lost their homes, and more likely than not their friends too. We need to fix the Mathiella ship, we need to reconnect the island to the mainland, and we need to clear up this mess. Not make tea."

"Right," he said humbly. "Yes, sorry." He took Martha's hand. "I'll talk to the Mathiella about their ship, you do your medical thing. We'll make sure everyone's safe. I promise. Then we'll get you back to your family. Sound like a plan?"

"And quite a good one at that," she said, with the ghost of a smile.

"I've gotten all the humans outside," cut in Mrs L. "The Mathiella are clearing up. I told them to move their dead colleagues somewhere respectful. They were surprisingly obedient."

"You're a star," smiled the Doctor warmly. "Now, shall we go?"

!

!

1 WEEK LATER (earth time).

Jason was breathing quickly. He was sweating. His fist clenched. His stomach fluttered.

There she was. She was far older than that Martha woman, but far younger than Mrs Lankinson. She wore different clothes to Mrs Lankinson as well, she wore tight jeans, a crème jacket and her hair was highlighted blonde.

Jason swallowed, flicking back his head. He began to walk, his legs shaking with every step. He was nearing her now, closer and closer. He took in a deep breath:

"H-hello," he stammered. The woman- Shirley McCarthy by name- looked up from texting on an expensive looking phone.

"Alright love?" she said airily, not looking at him twice. She swaggered past him, her handbag banging against him. He watched as she got further and further away. He sighed.

"Bye Mum."

1 MONTH LATER (earth time).

"Mrs Lankinson!" the Doctor beamed, bursting out the doors of the TARDIS and wrapping his long, pinstriped arms around the old woman's neck. She laughed, embracing him in return.

"It's good to see you Doctor," she said thickly. Martha emerged from the TARDIS as well; Mrs Lankinson hugged her too, kissing her on the cheek. "Martha, you look well."

"You too," she replied. She looked over the women's shoulder. "Jason!" she said in surprise.

"Hello Martha," he said shyly. "Doctor." Mrs Lankinson put an arm round the man who leant into her affectionately.

"Jason lives with me now," she explained. "He's like another son to me- I don't see my own children nearly enough. One does get ever so lonely…" The Doctor nodded. He understood.

"That's brilliant," said Martha, smiling widely. Mrs Lankinson idly noticed she was wearing the same clothes she had been while staying on the island. How odd. Didn't the woman change?

"Please have a cup of tea with us," said Mrs Lankinson. "It would be our pleasure."

"Sorry Mrs Lankinson, but we need to get Martha back to see her family again. We're in a bit of a rush."

"Oh," she frowned.

"Sorry," said Martha.

"I thought you were going to see them after you sorted out the Mathiella things," she queried.

"We are," said the Doctor. "How long has it been since we left?"

"A month," she replied.

"For you," he pointed out. "For us, slightly less."

"Right," said Mrs Lankinson. "Ok." The Doctor smiled at Martha.

"There we are Martha, they're fine, just like I said. We just wanted to make sure," he said. "Before we went gallivanting off." Martha nodded.

"Bye then," she said, swooping in to kiss both the islanders of the cheek. The Doctor nodded, opening the door for her to go inside. He nodded at the two bewildered humans, and closed the door.

"What a strange couple," said Mrs Lankinson. "And they are a couple, whatever that Martha women says. They're even having a baby together!"

"Really?" said Jason. Mrs L rested an arm on Jason's shoulder.

"Come on you. Let's go home."

"Come on you. Take me back," said Martha, poking the Doctor. He playfully slapped her hand away, and began working the TARDIS controls.

"Sorry we stayed more than five minutes," he said. "I will repay you one day."

"You bet you will," she replied. "And don't you forget it."

The TARDIS landed on Latisha-Mickey and Martha burst out the door in search of her family.

The Doctor hung back, letting her have time on her own. With her family. Because then, they'd have the whole of the universe to explore, together, until the universe burnt out. And he loved her.

!

!

But when Martha returned, her eyelashes were spiked with tears. 

"Hey," he said. "What's wrong?" She shook her head.

"I need to talk to you," she said seriously. He nodded.

"Anything," he said, sitting her down. She stole a deep breath.

"You know I love you, don't you," she began. The Doctor nodded. "Because I do, more than anything, I swear. But the thing is, I love my family too."

"Of course," he said.

"And after Tish… dying they need me."

"Of course."

"And now I'm pregnant… it's hard for them. They'll want to be involved. They need to be involved. So what I'm trying to say is… I want to stay on earth a little longer."

Silence.

"Oh," said the Doctor after the lengthily pause. "Right."

"I'm not leaving you," she said, touching his face. "I love you, I'd never leave you, not for anything, but just until the baby's born. No longer. I promise. He'll be born- or she'll be born and then I am coming right back to you." She swallowed. "And it's going to be difficult, but I don't want you to be putting up with a hormonal, fat, slow pregnant woman. And I don't want anything to happen to the baby. It's too dangerous."

"Yes," said the Doctor. "Naturally." She was crying now.

"And you will be waiting, won't you," she gulped. "Because I need you, the baby needs you- I mean I'm not pinning you down if you don't want to be involved with it but…"

"It's your choice," said the Doctor. "That's the way it's been since the beginning. I've made that clear. You want to go back to earth, well that's great. Really, really great. And I won't hang around during the pregnancy. Your family won't want that. And if you want to stay in a safer place with your child, I'll understand. But I'll be waiting for your call. Always." She nodded tearfully, and he pulled her into a long hug.

Hours later, after the long goodbye, Martha stepped out of the TARDIS and onto a busy London street. She looked back and he was there, peering out the TARDIS. He nodded at her and she smiled weakly. The door swung closed and she watched as the grinding began and the TARDIS was gone.

!  
!

He wouldn't call her. He couldn't, wouldn't, shouldn't. He wanted to. But it wasn't fair on her. She needed to be calm, to look after herself. He'd turn up and everything would crumble around them. That's just the way it was.

It had been months. He'd saved lives, planets, solar systems. He'd fought aliens, monsters and robots. He's met villains, heroes and humans. People had asked to come with him. He'd turned them all down. Every single one. Because they just weren't Martha Jones.

And now he sat, on his comfy chair, tapping Martha's phone with his nail. He almost fell off the comfy chair when it vibrated. He snapped it open, pressed it to the side of his face.

"Francine!" he said. He could hear faint wails in the background.

"Doctor we need you," she said. "Martha's in labour, she wants you to be here when her baby arrives." His heart leapt, he began driving the TARDIS while speaking on the phone.

"Is she ok?" he asked. "Is the baby ok."

"They're both fine. But please hurry. She's pretty close."

"Thank you, thank you, thank you," he said as the TARDIS went into flight. "I'm coming right now."

"Thank you," she said, and the phone went dead.

He pushed the doors open and Martha was there on the bed, her hair slick with sweat, her eyes wide.

"Doctor!" she yelped. "You ma-a-a-de it!"

"Course I did," he said, clasping her hand tight. He smiled encouragingly at her.

"You all right?" she nodded, her face contorting as another contraction hit her.

"Fine," she panted.

"That's right you're doing really well!" yapped a midwife from the other end of the bed. The Doctor kissed her hand gently.

"Well done," he whispered. "I'm so proud of you." She nodded, a howl emerging from her lips.

"We're almost done Martha, you're doing beautifully!" shouted the midwife. "Push, push push push push!" Martha's hand tightened round the Doctor's.

"Doctor!" she moaned. He squeezed her hand tight, excitement pounding in his chest.

"Here comes the head!" He grabbed Francine's free hand and she smiled at him gleefully as the cries of a newborn baby could be heard. Martha relaxed, tears flooding to her eyes.

"Let me hold him!" she commanded, reaching out eagerly.

"Her," corrected the midwife. "It's a baby girl."

"A baby girl Martha," said the Doctor kissing her. "A little daughter." He dropped her hand to embrace Francine. Martha sat up to take her baby, wrapped in crisp, white towels, her little face peering out.

"Hello," she cooed, touching her face. "Hello baby. Doctor look!" The Doctor looked. He smiled, bending down to stroke the little girl's tiny nose.

"Hey there," he said softly. "Hey."

"Why don't you let the new Daddy have a bit of a hold," said the midwife. Martha hesitated, looking up at the Doctor.

"Yes, why don't we," said Francine. The Doctor took the baby, sitting down in the chair by the bed, cradling her. Francine crossed over to Martha and hugged her, tears sparking in her eyes.

"Hey Gran," said Martha.

"Don't," protested Francine, but she looked thrilled. She squeezed Martha tightly.

"They look so natural," she said. "Like a proper father and daughter." 

"That's what they are," said Martha. "Maybe not by blood, but really- Tom's nothing."

"Have you told him?" Francine asked. Martha shook her head. 

"I will though," she said. "When she's older."

"What are you going to call her?" asked Francine.

"Yes Martha, what are you doing to call her?" said the Doctor, looking up. She paused.

"I was thinking Jenny. Jenny… Gallifrey. Is that ok?" The Doctor nodded.

"Perfect," he said. "Thank you."


	17. Chapter 17

**So, here's the final chapter/ epilogue of my fanfic! Thank you so much for the lovely reviews and to those who subscribed for my story/ author alerts. I have no immediate plans to continue with this set of stories (although I have started writing a slightly abstract Dr who/ dad's army crossover) but I think once that is down I will write some kind of domesticy moments story of the Doctor and Martha's family life. **

**EPILOGUE- MANY YEARS LATER**

He'd have to let her go one-day. One day, he'd have to say goodbye. It would be hard- it always was. It would be Susan all over again. Except Susan lived, and she would die. He swallowed.

But she looked so young. He glanced to his left and that was where he saw her. Her light brown skin was smooth with young. Her hair was scraped back into a bushy ponytail. She sat, chewing her lips, pen in one hand, half eaten sandwich in the other. She was writing in her little book, her blue book. Her diary.

He bent over to have a look and she snapped it shut.

"I was only looking," he protested.

"It's my diary, Dad," she said. "You can't just read someone's diary."

"Of course not," he said.

"It's private."

"Of course." She tucked it in her small hip-bag and returned to her sandwich.

The wails of a baby interrupted the Doctor's sad thoughts. He turned. His youngest son was sat on his brightly coloured baby mat chewing on something the Doctor didn't think he was meant to be chewing on. He went in to prise the child's jaw apart, but his wife got in there first.

"I got it," she said. "Come on Boe." The baby grizzled in the way only Time babies can as he nestled into his mother's cuddle. Jack 'Boe' Omega was named after three people Captain Jack, the face of Boe, and Omega, a hero of the timelords.

"I'll take him Mum," said the now seventeen-year-old Jenny. She leant over and cradled Jack in the crook of her arms.

"Afternoon all!" Jack- the original Jack- strolled over to the family picnic and sat down by Martha. "Hello nightingale."

"Hello Jack," she said, hugging him. He smiled at all the children assembled across the pale blue grass.

"You all right Jen?"

"Uh-hum," said Jenny Gallifrey. She was rubbing Boe's back, his grizzles were becoming louder. Susan 'Suzy' Romana skipped over to the newcomer and thrust something into his hand. A flower.

"Thank you Suzy," smiled Jack, fondly touching her blonde hair- inherited from the Doctor's fourteenth incarnation. "Mmm, it smells lovely." She nodded, all four years of her blushing. Suzy had always been shy.

The fifth child- and the only one who had managed to remain silent for the duration of the picnic, was Alistair Rassilon. He was thirteen, and neck deep in a thick book. He was the first child Martha and the Doctor had together.

"So, I didn't know Asgard was a usual picnic spot," said Jack, helping himself to some food.

"We're an unusual family," said Martha promptly. "And we were just heading back."

"I've just been to the TARDIS," Jack told her. "You weren't there, so I came looking for you. A very handsome Asgardian gentlemen pointed me in the right direction." He smiled. "His name was Elasolia."

"Jack, you're married now," said Martha scolding him.

"So are you and you're flirting with me," he said with a waggle of his eyebrows. She responded by spraying him with lemonade. He emerged dripping, laughing, and retaliated with dollops of mayonnaise in her hair.

"Jack!" she protested, throwing strawberries at him. They pinged off his face comically.

That was the cause of a huge food fight involving everyone- including Boe, who laughed and ate the debris.

"I thought you were meant to be a pacifist Dad!" said the chid who had been writing in the diary.

"I am!" he replied. "In most cases." He looked behind him mischievously. "Hand me that cake will you River?"

River Song pressed to chocolate cake into his hands.

"Go for it Dad," she said. He found his target and dived into the mass of his family.

************************FINIT***************************


End file.
